


There's Nothing Wrong With Us

by Malteser24



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: ADHD, Absolute sweethearts, Anxiety, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Attempt at Sign Language, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blindness, Can i add anymore tags, Chris is an awesome translator, Dan has a sister, Disability, Disabled Character, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Muteness, None of the four do anything bad, PJ is blind, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Phil is adorable, Phil is mute, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sign Language, Slow Build - kind of, They're good people, cute kisses, highschool!au, she is awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4754900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malteser24/pseuds/Malteser24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four boys with four issues (that aren’t really issues at all, but that do pose a slight problem every now and then) and the roller coaster ride of ups and downs and twists they travel together. Life isn’t easy for average people, it’s even more difficult for those who stray from the societal ‘norm’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There's Just Something About You

**Author's Note:**

> This is adapted from one of my oneshots - Timorous - which does feature in half of the first chapter. So if you've read that before, just skip it if you want.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four meet and some confusion arises, but it's all settle quickly. Dan's sister makes an appearance and Chris wants a seeing eye dog (not completely for PJ)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimer:  
> I am not blind, mute, nor do I have ADHD (although I know people who do) 
> 
> I am bisexual, not asexual, and because of all this, I'm aiming to do my best to write correctly, and I am doing research to help, and not to offend anyone. If I've written anything that's incorrect or offensive please tell me so that I can fix it. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy the story, I'm really proud of it.

There are days where Phil wants to scream, to yell with rage, to cry, to sob. There are also times where he wants to laugh and squeal and shout with joy. But unfortunately, that's simply not a possibility.

Because Phil, is mute.

It's the way he's always been, his first word never came, so he doesn't know any differently. The doctors assured his parents that it's not a problem, he's not unhealthy or in danger, he just won't ever speak. Phil thinks it's something to do with undeveloped vocal chords or something, but he's not completely certain, as the medical mumble jumbo the doctors' spoke went in one ear and straight out the other.

When he was really young, before the days of popularity and teasing and who-likes-who being important, it didn't matter that he didn't speak. All of the other kids just assumed that he was just really shy and quiet, but it didn't stop them from playing with him.

High school was an inevitable obstacle, and one Phil was less than eager to even attempt to overcome. He wasn't a fool. Primary school had been seven years of kids who thought his 'muteness' was just one of his weird propensities. They'd accepted it as normal and nothing more had ever been said.

But high school meant new kids, strangers, who didn't know, didn't understand, and likely didn't want to.

The first three months were torture. His classmates teased him about his muteness, and although they weren't always physically abusive, the mental cruelty was damaging enough.

He'd never hated himself for being mute before, but he was quickly beginning to.

But then, an angel, or some other celestial entity smiled down on him, because one day he ran – literally – into a boy with straight brown hair and hipster-y glasses.

The boy's name was Chris, and he had been on his way to the office for his daily medication – mild ADHD.

Phil had waved his hands in an ill attempt to apologise without the words he was unable to conjure. Chris had been confused at first, but when Phil explained his…situation in excruciatingly neat handwriting on a torn piece of notepad paper – he always kept some folded in his pocket just in case – he was all prize-winning smiles and open hands.

Their friendship blossomed, and the rest is history.

"You're being ridiculous."

Phil grins as he observes his best friends' amusing couples' banter.

"I am not!" Chris protests.

Phil's pretty certain that PJ's staring at Chris. He's not sure _how_ , considering it's pretty much impossible, but he thinks PJ's found a way.

"I honestly believe that having a seeing-eye dog is a little too extravagant at the moment, not to mention ludicrous. I'm _barely_ seventeen, Chris. Besides, you're _way_ too clumsy for _me_ to have a bouncing animal around."

PJ grins, and Phil thinks the connection between the two is stranger than he had previously thought. Chris' low scoff is scarcely an indication of his indignation.

"Phil. Surely you're on my side?" Chris pleads.

Phil shakes his head, and knocks once on the table for PJ's benefit, their mutually agreed signal for _'no'._

"Blasphemy!" Chris shouts.

"Well, actually –"

" _Treason_ , then."

Phil shakes his head softly – but if he's being completely honest, he finds it more endearing than anything.

PJ runs his hand up Chris' arm and taps his shoulder.

"Come here," He says, and Chris turns his head.

PJ cups Chris' cheek and they share a soft, short and sweet kiss.

Phil scribbles a sentence onto a scrap of paper.

" ' _Your PDA makes me wish_ I _was blind'_. Gee, thanks, Phil. Tell us what you _really_ think." Chris scoffs.

He laughs though, as does PJ, and although Phil's giggling internally, he wishes he could make actual sounds.

\- break -

Phil has to admit that all three of them are very lucky, considering they only have two classes separate.

It could be worse.

It's just that, sometimes…sometimes, when Phil's hiding out in the back corner of a classroom, he has mental flashbacks of bad times, and it induces slight anxiety. He imagines that people are whispering about him, that when they glance over they're _looking_ at him, that they're _talking_ _about_ _him_ …and it makes concentrating a little hard,

It's probably a causal effect of his muteness, but Phil's a fairly shy, reserved person. And he always worries too much about if people are talking about him, because he doesn't know what they're saying if they are. Which makes it pretty hard to make friends – amongst other contributors.

Phil regrets sitting in the back, at a table with a empty seat beside him – the only empty seat in the whole room – when his Psychology teacher announces the arrival of a new student.

The fact that the new student is really cute, and Phil's only recently accepted the existence of his bisexuality, doesn't really help matters much.

"This is Dan, and he'll be joining our class this semester, so don't be jerks," The teacher says.

There's a chorus of laughter that spreads around the room.

"You can sit next to…Phil."

There's a few muffled sniggers as the teacher looks over at Phil, but he doesn't make any visible gesture to indicate he's heard anything.

He's too busy having an internal breakdown, because this new kid – Dan – doesn't know about his, _condition_ , and he'll have to go through the same painful attempt to explain his situation, which will just result in an awkward, tense atmosphere and another person who thinks he's a freak.

Dan smiles, and Phil tries, he attempts to return it, weakly, but he tries.

"Hi," Dan says, and Phil's hopes that Dan would just ignore him, like pretty much everyone else, escape out the window.

Phil waves, and although Dan's eyebrows narrow, he keeps quiet.

The lesson passes with no fuss, and when the bell goes Phil's grateful - he can finally escape.

No chance.

"Hey, so I know I'm new and everything, but I was wondering if, maybe, I could hang out with you? I don't know anybody, that's all."

Phil feels immensely horrible, and he tries to convey everything he wants to say through his expression - his hands are too busy holding his stuff - but he's not quite sure how to.

"Uh, hello? Can you hear me, or are you just being a jerk."

Dan's getting agitated, Phil can tell, and he hates it, he hates when anyone's angry or upset - but he can't _do_ anything...can't _say_ anything.

"Wow, I know I'm new and everything, but you don't have to be such an asshole."

Dan's full blown _angry_ now, and Phil hurries to think of something to do as Dan turns to walk off - but somebody else has already come up with _the perfect idea_.

"Oh, mate, it's not what you think. The freak's not intentionally ignoring you, he's just a mute."

The words are spoken with malice and tease, but also simplistically - a fact that is just accepted; Phil's a freak.

Dan's eyes are wide, shocked, but Phil's not paying attention to that. He can feel the tears splashing down his warm, reddened cheeks. He runs out of the room without a second glance, heart pounding and stomach twisting.

It doesn't hurt because he thought he could make a friend, it hurts because he had believed the days of being called a 'freak' were long past him.

"Phil?" Chris calls out. He's seated at their usual table, but his sharp eyes noticed Phil's sullen figure before Phil could slip past.

Phil takes his time, mentally preparing himself for the sympathy bound to show on his best friends' faces, sympathy he's not even sure he deserves.

"Mate, are you...did something happen?"

Phil shakes his head as he sits down.

"Phil..." PJ says, and he knows, Phil can tell he knows - and he's 100% positive that PJ's got some crazy psychic powers.

"Did someone say something?" Chris asks, and Phil pauses, before nodding reluctantly. He knocks twice on the table, but it's soft, barely audible.

"Did they tease you?" PJ asks, and Phil nods, before shrugging.

"Care to expand?" Chris asks, but before Phil gets a chance, someone walks over, hesitating by their table.

"Uh, hi..."

Phil's freezes. He knows that voice. He _knows_ who that voice belongs to.

"Hi..." Chris begins. He saw Phil tense, so he's cautious, and wary - visibly so, too.

"Sorry, it's just...there was this, misunderstanding, and...uh, I'm Dan, by the way."

"Chris," Chris greets slowly.

"PJ. And this is -"

"Phil." Dan cuts in, blushing slightly as he realises what he'd said.

"Sorry, we've, uh, we've met."

Chris raises his eyebrows at Phil, asking a silent question, but Phil doesn't move.

"I don't mean to interrupt, it's just...I was kind of hoping to talk to Phil."

"You know he can't..." PJ begins, wary of offending or upsetting Phil, his hands moving like Phil's usually do.

"Yeah...that's partly why I wanted to, uh, talk."

"It's okay, I can interpret. Speak away." Chris announces.

"Okay, uh..."

Dan's nervous...but Phil's not sure _why_. It's rather strange, to see someone else acting like that, timorously, the way Phil so oftenly acts.

"I'm sorry about the...misunderstanding before. I thought you were being rude and obnoxious, and it annoyed me - when really, _I_ was the one being rude."

Phil shrugs one shoulder, eyes widened, and Chris understands, although Dan obviously doesn't.

"It's okay. He knows you didn't mean it. He understands."

Dan looks amazed that one look can convey so much, that Chris can understand so easily what Phil means, and Chris chokes out a low laugh. Phil knows it's just because Chris gets it, he just _knows_.

"Phil, I'm...I'm sorry."

Phil smiles, and scoots across, opening a spot next to him. After all, Dan is new, and now that everything has been cleared up, he can't see why he shouldn't have the chance at a new friendship.

"Care to join us?" PJ asks, and Chris properly laughs as Dan sits down. Phil absentmindedly thinks Dan looks rather adorable, puzzled as to how glassy-eyed PJ knew what Phil did.

"You have much to learn." Chris says.

Phil pulls out a scrap of paper and a pencil, and scribbles down a single word, which he passes to Dan.

_'Friends?'_

Dan reads the note, and nods, grinning.

"Friends." He agrees.

Phil quite likes the sound of that.

 

 

In hindsight, Dan probably should have seen the psychiatrist when his mother first recommended it. Sure, he was a little _angry_ at her at the time, a fact that partially impaired his judgement. Still…it might have helped. Because now, his problems are too deeply ingrained for him to get rid of them, they’re a part of him, despite what Charlotte tries to argue.

Rightfully, Dan should distance himself from people, to keep them from getting hurt – unintentionally or not. But he has this horrific urge to attach himself to people. He hates being lonely, he can’t stand it.

And so, instead of keeping to himself like most _normal_ people would – he blatantly asks to be friends with one of his new classmates.

Horrible decision, really.

\------

He doesn’t know why he didn’t just stay away.

It’s a wonder, how Phil even payed him any attention, after the way Dan had acted. He didn’t even think about what he was doing, or saying. Phil doesn’t understand how volatile he is, none of them do, he’s not safe, he’s _dangerous_ , he’s messed up, he’s…

 _“That’s not true, it’s impossible…it doesn’t even – no one’s like that…you can’t, you’re_ not _!”_

_“Come on, Dan, don’t be such a freak, everyone wants it, even you.”_

He’s not the kind of person someone should be friends with.

\-----

“How was school?” Dan’s sister, Charlotte, asks the second he walks in the door.

“We can’t have this chat over dinner, where I can pretend I’m too busy eating, and you can drop the subject with a mumble of how difficult I am?” Dan replies, his voice bouncing off the hallway walls as he makes his way to his bedroom, where he discards his bag.

“Nice try, squirt. But I think that’s how things are really going to play out.”

She’s leaning against the kitchen bench, arms crossed, when Dan walks back in; and he can tell by the intenseness of her gaze, that he’s not going to escape her interrogation.

“It was fine.” He answers, nonchalantly, shrugging one shoulder.

“ _Fine?_ ” Charlotte echoes.

“Yeah, fine. Made a few mistakes, and I made a few friends. It was fine, all things considered.

“Dan…” Charlotte says, and it comes out almost like a warning.

“I almost had a temper blow-out but I fixed it.

“You _fixed it_?”

“I didn’t yell, I didn’t break anything, I apologised for it and still walked away with friends. Sounds pretty fixed to me.”

Charlotte steps forward and hugs Dan, and it takes all his strength not to collapse.

“I know things aren’t easy for you, and now that you’ve had to move houses, and schools…on top of everything else you have to deal with _daily_ …I know I can be a little overprotective and I probably annoy you, but I can’t help it. I only have your best interests at heart.”

“I know.” Dan says into her soft curls. He’s taller than her, but only by a little bit.

“And I appreciate everything you’ve done – getting me away from Mum and Dad, taking me in, everything. But you need to remember, Char, I’m nearly seventeen – I need to cope with things on my own, or at least learn how to.”

Charlotte nods, pulling back so she’s holding Dan at arm’s length, her hands on his shoulders.

“You’re right. So…let’s talk about happier things. You said you made friends?”

Dan grins, and ignores the stray tears that slip down his cheeks.

“Their names are Phil, PJ and Chris, and…”

-

The next day, Dan accidentally sleeps in, which might have been okay if Charlotte hadn’t started work early that morning. He makes it to school just as the bell rings, and is, fortunately, only a minute late to his first class. However, he’s a little frazzled when he walks in, his anxiety threatening to rise to problematic levels and his temper boiling just below the surface.

Psychology’s first up, and Phil catches his attention with an enthusiastic wave. Dan sits next to him, clenching his fists under the desk to stop the slight tremors. He thinks it’s working, or perhaps he’s just hoping really hard. He focuses on the teacher’s instructions, and as such doesn’t notice what Phil’s doing, until the scrap of paper is slid in front of him.

 _‘Are you okay?’_ It reads, and Dan’s already got three excuses on the tip of his tongue, but for some peculiar reason none of them come out.

“Yeah, it’s just – I slept in this morning so I was late, and I…I really don’t like being late.”

Phil’s just looking at him, but Dan gets the feeling there’s something more than meets the eye going on. He scribbles something else, this time below the first line.

 _‘I think I might have something that will cheer you up.’_ It reads. _‘But, you’ll have to wait until recess.’_

“What is it?” Dan asks, but Phil only grins and taps the side of his nose – a signal even Dan understands.

“I get the daunting feeling you’re actually a criminal mastermind.” He jokes, and the smile Phil flashes is bright enough to rival the sun.

There’s a substantial part of Dan, that knows the problems he thinks are there, aren’t really that big.

However, there’s also a fair part of him that’s screaming, that he’s going to screw everything up, again, and that part is unfortunately impossible to ignore.

-

They don’t ‘talk’ too much more in class, but Phil _does_ draw a bunch of sketches – stars and lions and hearts and music notes, and Dan thinks there might be a llama there somewhere; but he only told Phil once, in passing, that they’re his favourite animal…so he’s not quite sure.

Every now and then, Dan turns to ask Phil something, or to sneak a glance at the answers Phil’s written for the textbook questions, and he’s almost blinded by Phil’s smile – it’s bright and wide but not in a way that is overbearing or obnoxious…it’s one of the best things Dan’s ever seen.

And it shouldn’t be, he shouldn’t be letting himself think such things – it never ends well, not for him, he should have learnt by now.

It’ll only end in heartbreak, and he knows it.

-

Dan walks with Phil to their lockers, which are only a few feet apart, when the bell goes. Dan asks Phil where Chris and PJ are, and Phil shrugs – but he doesn’t look fazed or worried, so Dan takes it as they’re on their way, or something alike.

Dan takes his snack – a packet of plain crisps and a banana – from his locker. Phil’s holding a brown paper bag when he walks over, and when Dan asks about the contents, Phil just puts his index finger in front of his lips, then taps the side of his nose.

_Shush, it’s a secret._

Dan pouts, then declares “you’re a jerk.”

Phil doesn’t seem too hurt by the statement.

He leads Dan to the cafeteria, hand on his wrist, gently tugging him along. Dan tries to focus on where they’re going and _not_ on how Phil’s touch almost burns…he’s new and he needs to work out where things are as soon as possible.

“I’ve had a startling revelation.” Dan says as they find a deserted table.

Phil’s eyebrows are raised, so Dan continues.

“I’d be quite literally lost, if I hadn’t met you. I know where _nothing_ is at this school.”

Phil grins, and holds up two fingers.

“Two things?” Dan asks, amused at how their conversation is quickly turning into a game of charades.

Phil shakes his head, and tilts his head slightly to the right.

“Two days?”

Phil nods enthusiastically, azure eyes sparkling.

“I’ve only been here for two days? Well, yeah, kind of…but I mean – if I didn’t have you to show me where to go, I could still be lost three weeks from now.”

Phil shakes his head, in a manner almost fond, and Dan resists the urge to tell him to kindly shut up.

“You guys can stop feeling lame now, us cool kids are finally here.”

They both looks up as Chris and PJ walk over, arm in arm. Phil shakes his head and signs something – all fast, blurry movements and twisted hands – and although Dan understand none of it, he can’t imagine it’s anything nice, judging by Chris’ indignant scoff.

“He just called me a blundering fool, basically.” Chris clarifies, for both Dan and PJ’s sakes.

“And he informed me, that I am, apparently, not in fact ‘cool’. Which I quite completely disagree with.”

“You’re not cool.” PJ says, manoeuvring slowly to sit at the table. “You’re an absolute dork. A dork I love…but a dork all the same.”

Chris pouts and sighs, and PJ kisses his cheek, one hand on his shoulder.

“This is the point where Phil would make gagging gestures and carefully detail just how sickening he finds us, in case we weren’t already aware.” Chris informs Dan.

Phil quickly puts his hands on his lap, hidden under the table, a rosy blush creeping up his neck. Dan personally finds it rather adorable, not that he mentions it.

“Don’t mind him Phil,” PJ reassures him. “He’s just annoyed because the teacher found out he’d neglected to do his homework.”

“How was your class?” He continues, before Chris can open his mouth again.

“Good.” Dan says, and Phil gives a thumbs up.

“We were just answering questions. Nothing too exciting.”

And then, something dawns on Dan, and he might as well have a cartoon light bulb over his head.

“But.. you sir, promised me a surprise.” Dan reminds Phil, turning his attention completely to his balck-haired companion.

Phil nods, and holds up the brown paper bag that had been resting between his legs.

“Are they Nana Lester’s infamous, mouth-watering delicious triple choc-chip brownies?” Chris inquires, looking for the most part as if Christmas had come early.

“You could be a product salesman.” Dan declares. “That was a fantastic pitch.”

Chris shakes his head hurriedly.

“No, mate. You _literally_ have no idea how delicious they are. People have almost _died_ trying to get these brownies.”

Dan looks a little dubious, still not quite believing.

“I’d say that’s a little bit of an exaggeration – and under most circumstances, Chris usually _is_ weaving a few dramatic lines into his speech – but this time I actually have to agree with him. These are quite literally the best treats you will ever eat in your whole life.” PJ says, and he sounds serious enough to properly convince Dan to at the very least _try_ them.

“Okay, if you all insist. But, I mean, really…how good _can_ they _actually be_?”

Phil hands them out – clean-cut squares of chocolate treat small enough to fit in Dan’s palm – and Dan takes the first crucial bite…he has to rethink the past five minutes or so of his life, and every word he’d spoken during them.

His mouth is _exploding_ with flavour, it’s sweet and crunchy and chewy but not hard – like an actual slice of heaven melting on his tongue. And yes…it _melted_.

“Oh… _Jesus Christ,_ ” He breathes, the taste soaking into his tastebuds.

“What did we say?” Chris asks, grinning smugly.

“Like the kiss of an angel, some might say.” PJ adds.

Phil’s smirking, but it looks more gentle than arrogant, like he’s genuinely pleased they all enjoy the sweets so much. He, himself, is chewing on a piece, watching the conversation with vibrant eyes.

“I honestly, think I could die happy right now.” Dan announces.

Chris and PJ laugh, and Phil’s grin widens, and Dan thinks that he might just be fitting in nicely. He might just well have found somewhere he belongs, with a group of people he could honestly call friends.

It feels nice, if a little terrifying.


	2. I Care What You Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil has a propostion, Dan has some reflections, and Chris has some worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from 'Stressed Out' by Twenty One Pilots

"You want to teach me sign language?"

They're at school, waiting for PJ and Chris to arrive, and Phil's suddenly thrusted a scrap of paper into Dan's hands.

Phil nods, and he looks so excited about the idea that Dan doesn't really want to say no. However, there's also a small part of him screaming that if he tries this he'll just fail or he'll offend Phil, neither of which are options he's too happy with.

"I don't know..."

Phil's eyes are wide and almost pleading, and he looks so earnest that Dan isn't sure he can keep this act up. He hands Dan another piece, and Dan wonders just how many pre-written messages he has. Phil's incredibly intent on convincing him, for some reason unknown to Dan.

" _You taught Chris_... Look, Phil, it's not that I don't trust you or anything, it's just that I'm not sure  _I'll_ be able to do it."

Phil tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth, like he's deep in thought, and Dan's a little nervous to see what he comes up with next.

Just then, PJ and Chris walk up, Chris' hand wrapped around his boyfriend's arm, and they look like such a perfect couple, that Dan's heart pangs a little at the sight.

"Hey. What are you two up to?" Chris asks when they're close enough to be heard.

"Phil's trying to convince me to learn sign language." Dan explains.

"Is he going to teach you?" PJ asks.

"That's what he says."

"Well, I for one think you should let him." Chris says.

"It's not exactly going to hurt, and I promise, he's a good teacher, very patient."

Phil smiles at the compliment.

"You really think I should?" Dan asks, and he hates that he's so worried about this, but it's obviously a big part of Phil's life and he doesn't want to do anything wrong.

"Absolutely. You won't regret it, I promise." Chris tells him, and he sounds deadly serious, so Dan can't help but believe him.

"Okay..." He says, a little hesitantly, and he sounds like he's giving in, but really there's a fair part of him that is interested in learning, so that he can communicate with Phil, but also because it will be like learning another language, and it's all fascinating to him.

"Awesome!" Chris says, and Dan has barely a second to register that he's going in for a high-five and not trying to bash him up.

PJ's grinning, and when Dan sneaks a glance side-ways he can see that Phil is too. He thinks that this is the right decision, especially if it provides such a delighted response.

* * *

When Dan gets home, the flat is empty - which isn't surprising, Charlotte's still at work after all. But for some reason, the quiet and the loneliness is almost stifling. He knows it's probably just because he's not used to being in this apartment, far from his parents and his childhood home. He's far too used to coming home to the smell of freshly baked goods or the sound of his father mowing the lawns, or even the sound of the neighbour's annoying dogs barking .

It's only been a month since he moved in with Charlotte, only a month since his world had come crashing down around him, and the memories, the hurt, are still burning in his mind. Charlotte's move had been her choice - she had always been extremely independent, and as soon as she was old enough and had enough financial resources to leave, she was out.

But Dan, he hadn't had much of a choice in the matter. Once his parents had found out the truth about him ... they'd basically kicked him out. It was an ultimatum - pretend he wasn't actually who he was, or get out, because they couldn't stand having a son like him.

So he'd called Charlotte up with tears falling from his eyes and shaky sobs escaping his mouth, and told her everything, to the minuscule detail. She'd remained calm, though he could hear the undertones of fury in her words, and instructed him on just how they would fix the situation.

The next day, Dan feigned sickness, and skipped school, and whilst their parents were at work, he and Charlotte had packed up all of his belongings, and he was gone. He left everything he'd ever known, and he'd never looked back. He'd moved in with Charlotte, who understood him, accepted him like their parents hadn't, and life, although far from perfect, was undeniably better.

Sure, he still had his issues - the voices of his past echoed behind him every second of every minute, and his anger-control was hit and miss at best.

But he also had his wonderful sister, and his new friends, and he was at a new school where people didn't know about his past, about who he was. Where he could make himself anew, become someone better, the person he truly was and the person he  _wanted_ to be, all rolled into one.

The feeling that he was all alone, though ... he had a sneaking suspicion that would never go away.

* * *

"I think it's a good idea."

Dan and Charlotte are sitting at their dining table, eating roast vegetables and chicken and gravy for dinner. Charlotte had asked about his day, and Dan had told her about Phil's proposition, although he hadn't quite expected the reaction he'd gotten.

Dan stares at her, expecting to see some indication of a bluff, but he can't find anything.

"You're not kidding, are you?" He asks.

"Why would I be?" Charlotte asks in return, and Dan shrugs.

"Because it's kind of a big deal, probably difficult, and we both know what problems can arise when I get frustrated."

Charlotte bites her bottom lip, and Dan thinks she might be searching for the correct words.

"I truly do think it's a good idea. It's really nice of Phil to offer, and it would probably help you talk to him - which I'm pretty sure is what  _you_ want."

There's a teasing to her words, and Dan wonders if she knows - and how she could  _possibly_ know, when even  _Dan_ isn't quite sure what it all is, what it all means. How it could be true in the slightest when he'd barely known Phil for a week.

"You're a lot better at controlling your anger than you think you are, Dan. I trust that, if you find yourself getting too frustrated and agitated, you'll stop and get it all under control before it gets out of hand. You know your triggers, Dan, you know what's too much and I have faith that you can handle yourself."

Charlotte shrugs, but Dan's too busy mulling over her words to really notice.

"It's up to you, though. In the end, you're the one that's going to be learning, not me. You're the one who this all affects."

Dan breathes in deep, and he knows that Charlotte's right. She always is.

"I'll think about it." He says, because it's as close to a yes as he can give at the moment.

He's still terrified, because even though Charlotte has trust and faith in him, he doesn't.

* * *

It's interesting, Dan muses, how plain and boring his bedroom looks for that of a teenage boy.

There's no posters or picture frames or even post-it notes with mismatched thoughts. The walls are a pale blue, the curtains on his window are a light-grey, and the only furniture in the room is his bed with it's black-white-and-grey covers, his desk with a whole lot of nothing, and his bookshelf which is filled with the few books he'd taken from his old house.

It's not that he can't decorate his room so that it reflects his personality, Charlotte basically gave him free reign when he moved in - his room is  _his room_  - but he simply hasn't been able to conjure up the inspiration to do so. His old bedroom had been filled with band posters and nerdy figurines, and to replicate it  _here_ feels strange, like he's just reverting to his old-self, slipping back into his past.

Although, when he can't sleep at night for fear of plaguing nightmares, and he's looking up at the empty ceiling above his head, he wonders if he could put something there. Glow-in-the-dark stickers that all his primary school friends used to have, perhaps, ones that end up fading over time, so they start to look a little green.

Something to shine at night when the shadows threaten to suffocate him.

* * *

"Are we being bad friends?"

Chris runs his fingers along the span of PJ's side, the touch feather-light and delicate. He knows that he is probably being silly, but there is always a part of him that over-reacts to things and he had learnt a while ago, that telling his boyfriend is much smarter than mulling over it himself.

They're lying on PJ's bed, because neither had any better plans, and PJ's parents trust them enough to be alone with no supervision. There's music playing in the background, coming from PJ's laptop where it sits open on the desk, but neither of them are concentrating much on it.

"What do you mean?" PJ asks, carding his fingers gently through Chris' hair. Although he doesn't say so, Chris is extremely grateful that PJ doesn't tell him he's being silly, but instead asks why he's having such thoughts.

"It's just ... it's not that I don't trust Phil to make smart decisions, but - Dan is new, and different and it's just been the three of us for so long ... I can't help but feel like we've done the wrong thing in just accepting him into the group straight away. We don't even know that much about him."

Chris sighs aloud. He sounds like such an ass, and he's not trying to be, he's just worried about Phil. He can't help but want to wrap him up and protect him from all the evil in the world, because Phil deserves nothing but kindness and he's already faced so much negativity.

"I don't want to sound presumptuous," PJ replies. "But I don't think Dan will do anything bad, not unprovoked. He doesn't come across as that kind of person. And if he would, he'd apologise, just like he did to Phil."

Chris feels PJ moving, and then there's a soft brush of lips against his temple and he sighs again.

"But I can see where you're coming from." PJ adds, his voice low and warm. "I don't think we're being bad friends, as such, but you do have a point. Perhaps, instead of worrying about it, we should just talk to Dan more, get to know him better."

Chris hums as PJ talks, the sound rising as his boyfriend scrapes his short nails across Chris' scalp. The touch sends waves of pleasure down his spine, and along with PJ's wise words, makes him feel a little better too. He knows he made the right choice in talking about it.

"You're right." Chris says, then scoffs out a laugh, adding quietly. "But then again, I shouldn't have expected anything less."

PJ laughs too, and the sound is like the best possible music in the world to Chris' ears.

"You need to worry less." PJ says, and Chris thinks that he probably looks sympathetic, but he can't be bothered lifting his head up off PJ's chest to find out, so he's not sure.

Instead, he places his hand flat on PJ's ribs, where the warmth from his skin seeps into Chris' fingers, and presses his head as close to PJ's chest as he can. PJ kisses his head again, and although they've both lapsed into silence, it's comfortable and pleasant, and it serves to ease Chris' worries a little bit.

Not a lot. But a bit.


	3. Coping Is Difficult But I'm Trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan accepts Phil's offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sign language in this is taken from the little SL I do actually remember from about 6 years ago. (Rough Auslan - Australian Sign Language - with shortcuts I have made up myself)
> 
> Bear with me, guys, I don't practise SL very often. I'm a little rusty.
> 
> And of course, as always, I am not asexual but I am trying my best to describe Dan as accurately as possible.

"Okay. You can teach me,"

Phil's whole face lights up at Dan's words, but Dan holds a hand up, indicating that he isn't finished.

"But, you have to be patient with me, I'm not always a fast learner - and I can get ... frustrated, at times. And, we need Chris to be around so there's no miscommunication between us." He adds, and Phil nods furiously.

Dan has barely a second to notice as Phil basically tackles him into a firm hug, and when Phil's long arms reach around him, Dan's breath hitches and sticks in his throat. He tenses up a little, not because he's uncomfortable but because he wasn't expecting Phil to hug him. Phil is warm, and the hug is kind of nice when Dan starts to think past  _"okay, okay, Phil's hugging me, okay",_ but he's a little bewildered to find himself disappointed when Phil pulls away.

He looks sheepish, his right hand reaching up to rub his upper arm, just above his elbow, and he's looking at the ground instead of at Dan. Dan's not sure what to do, or what to say, and Phil's not looking at him so he can't just offer Phil a comforting smile to reassure him that everything is okay.

Thankfully, the bell rings, and Phil looks up at the sound. He gestures to his locker, only a metre or so away from where they're standing. Dan nods, and Phil smiles before walking off. Dan spins his lock, clicking on the numbers he needs, all the while trying not to think too much about what had just happened, and more importantly, how nice it had felt.

He can't afford to crush on Phil.

Dan has English up first, a class he has with Chris but without Phil, so he says goodbye to Phil - receiving a smile and a wave in response - and makes his way to his classroom. He spends the walk trying to remember where his classroom is, and hoping that he won't get lost along the way because he has no idea what he'll do then.

He makes it barely a second before the bell for class rings, and he's quite proud of himself, having only made one wrong turn instead of five this time.

Chris grins at him when he walks in, and Dan smiles shyly as he takes the seat next to him. Neither of them speak, because their English teacher, Mr. Prav, is a scary man with beady eyes who doesn't give out warnings before detentions like most teachers would.

They work diligently for half of the lesson, grateful when Mr. Prav has to go to his office, leaving the class alone with a girl who could care less what they did as long as the room didn't burn down.

"So, have you made a decision about Phil's proposition yet?" Chris asks, and Dan sighs at his straightforwardness. It seems there is indeed a lot that Dan has yet to learn about his new friends.

"I have." He answers. "But I'm curious as to why you want to know so badly."

"Because Phil is my best friend." Chris says honestly, adding quickly. "So is PJ, obviously, but Phil's different. I knew him first, met him when we were both at pretty dark places in our lives and we helped each other through them. If you're going to be in our friend group, if you're serious about being  _his_ friend, I think it's important that you learn how to communicate with him like we did."

"I am serious." Dan says, soaking Chris' words in. He's a little curious about the 'dark places' part, but he knows better than to push - he's been through dark times too, he knows as well as anyone how it feels to be stuck in a storm cloud, and it's much fairer to find out when the person or people are ready.

"Wait a second." He soon adds, because another part of what Chris said has suddenly clicked.

"You said, 'like  _we_ did'."

Chris nods, and he's looking at Dan like he's taken the alter-ego of 'Captain Obvious'.

"Yeah. PJ and I."

"How does ... I mean I'm not trying to be rude, or anything, but-"

"How can PJ do it? Because he's blind?" Chris asks, and Dan would be worried but Chris looks amused instead of angry so Dan breathes out a low sigh of relief that he hopes goes unnoticed.

"I taught him. With Phil's help of course, but-"

Just then, Mr. Prav walks back in, so Dan and Chris duck their heads and pretend to be working. They wait until their teacher's dark eagle eyes have returned to the papers on his desk before turning to face each other.

"Phil taught me," Chris whispers, and Dan strains a little to hear him.

"And then I helped PJ learn. It took him a bit longer and he usually sticks to the basic ones like saying hello or thank you and the such, phrases that don't require an answer."

Chris smiles wistfully, and Dan feels slightly envious, though he doesn't mention it.

"I know it may seem pointless," He whispers, "Especially because he can talk, which he does most of the time, but it means that PJ doesn't feel left out or like a bad friend because he can't talk to Phil the way Phil talks to him and me - and now, of course, you."

"So, do you translate for the two of them?" Dan asks quietly, curious as to how the dynamic between them works.

"Most of the time. I'm sort of the go-between."

Chris grins, and at first Dan feels a little scared - Chris looks like an mad scientist, like Victor Frakenstein.

"Of course, once  _you've_ learnt you can be the messenger pigeon as well."

Dan smiles, the idea curiously enticing.

"That sounds like fun." He says, and Chris grins.

"Most of the time, it is."

* * *

 

"So, I was thinking we should start this SL session this weekend?" Chris suggests when they're at lunch.

PJ raises his eyebrows, and Chris whispers something into his ear that seems to be an explanation.

"SL?" Dan asks, and he feels pretty dumb when he realises a second later what it means.

"Oh, right. Sign language, I get it."

PJ smiles and Chris scoffs out a laugh, and Dan feels like groaning when he sees Phil laughing soundlessly out of the corner of his eye.

_Good job, Dan. Nice one._

"Sounds good to me." PJ says, and Phil nods in agreement. Dan ponders the idea - he can't find any fault in it, but things are all happening in quicker succesion then he'd been ready for.

"Can't wait." Dan says, and he makes a mental note to ask Charlotte, although he's not quite sure how he's going to get around asking her without letting slip of the real reason behind his request.

Phil makes eye contact with Chris, before pointing to himself and then steeping his fingers so they made a bottomless triangle.

"Everyone okay with Phil's house?" Chris translates, and Dan furrows his eyebrows.

"We also use shortcuts - a sign language all of our own." Chris explains, and Dan purses his lips.

"I see. This is indeed going to be interesting." He says, and he wonders if the others can hear the double-edged meaning in his words, or if it's really just him.

* * *

 

Charlotte's lounging on the creamy-brown couch in the sitting room when Dan gets home. At first he doesn't see her, and he would have walked past if she hadn't of spotted him first.

"Hey, squirt, how was school?" She asks, and her voice is soft and a little strained.

Dan drops his bag behind the couch before flopping onto it. Charlotte, anticipating the move, folds her legs as he sits down, before stretching them back out, her feet pushing against the arm of the couch, her shins resting on Dan's thighs.

"You know that calling me squirt is redundant seeing as I'm not half your height anymore." Dan says, looking down at her.

There's the faint remnance of dark bags under her eyes, and her golden hair is messy and knotted. She's wearing her glasses, thin-rimmed and purple, and Dan can tell that she's had an interesting and possibly rough day.

"I don't care. You're still younger and that is enough for me." She replies, and Dan squeezes her knee, humour dropping away.

"How was work?" He asks. He doesn't inquire as to why she's at home when she's supposed to be at the bakery down the road, he figures she'll tell him at some point.

"Tiring, as always - I blame the annoyingly impatient clientèle. I mean today wasn't too bad, so I'm pretty lucky, but-" Charlotte sighs wearily.

"I shouldn't be complaining." She mumbles, running a hand through her untidy tangles.

She turns to him with a bright smile, and even though he can see the tightness to her mouth and the lines near her eyes, he doesn't say anything, because he knows that she would just dismiss his worries anyway.

"How was your day?" She continues, reaching a hand out to grip his own with a reassuring squeeze.

"Pretty good. I, uh, I told Phil about my decision."

"You made a choice?" Charlotte asks, and Dan nods, a mix of excitement and shyness.

"Yeah, I said that he could teach me, but I made sure that Chris could be there too, to translate."

 _And so that I'm not all alone with Phil._ He thinks, but he doesn't mention it, because he isn't quite sure that he wants to admit it out loud.

Charlotte nods, her movements slow but fluid.

"Makes sense to me. I'm proud of you Dan, this is a good step."

"Yeah," Dan breathes out shakily, and he smiles as Charlotte squeezes his hand again. Some days,  _most_ days, he isn't sure what he would do without his big sister.

"Chris suggested we start this weekend." Dan continues, speaking slowly. "And Phil offered for us to meet at his house."

Charlotte's eyeing him curiously, and he can tell that she's trying to read him - she's probably succeeding - but he doesn't dwell on that, because if he stops talking now he knows he won't bring it up again.

"I thought I should probably ask you first, though, before I confirmed definitively." He adds, letting out a sigh when he finishes.

He doesn't know why it felt like such a big deal to ask Charlotte - he doesn't expect her to say no. She'd been encouraging him to try to make new friends ever since she'd found out what had happened with those who had claimed to be comrades but had done nothing to prove it, and she had been nothing but excited since he'd told her about his three new friends. Regardless, there was a tiny knot of anxiety in his gut, and it wasn't easing up.

"I don't mind." Charlotte says, her head tilted a bit to the side like a curious bird.

"Do you know his address?"

"No, I'll have to ask him tomorrow."

Charlotte nods, and covers her mouth as a yawn threatens to escape.

"I can drive you there, if you want." She says, mid-yawn.

"I could always walk." Dan insists, not wanting to burden her in any way, not after what she had done for him already.

Charlotte simply stares at him, and there's an air of guardianship in her look.

"Not if it's any further than from here to the school, you're not." She says, and she smiles at him kindly before adding. "Besides, I want to meet your new friends."

Dan groans and buries his face in his hands, and he can hear Charlotte laughing softly at his embarrassment.

"You know I love you, Danny boy." She says, and Dan resists the urge to slide of the couch and bury his face into the ground.

"I love you too." He mumbles, because despite her annoying teasing, he knows that there will never be a day where he doesn't love Charlotte, because he knows that she'll never do anything to cause him to hate her.

She'd already accepted him as who he was, helped him escape to a better place and was more than willing to do anything to help him. He couldn't possibly wish for a better sister than the one he had, nor would he.

* * *

 

Dan is barely at Phil's door, had just hurriedly waved goodbye to Charlotte and knocked on the wooden entrance, before it was flung open revealing Chris on the other side.

"Hey, dude." Chris greets, with a small smile. There's something in his eyes that Dan can't quite define, but he's curious about it.

"The other guys are in the den. Follow me."

Dan walks after Chris, making sure he's no more than a few steps behind because getting lost in Phil's house - which is nice and traditional and clean and  _two whole storeys_ \- doesn't sound too appealing to him.

"We're going to start this thing the easy way." Chris explains as he leads. "The alphabet, how to say hello, thank you, how to introduce yourself."

Dan knows that what Chris is describing probably isn't as hard as it sounds, but to someone like Dan who has no clue what he's gotten himself into, it sounds a little difficult and he's kind of nervous about it.

"Sounds like fun." He says anyway, because he doesn't want to admit that he's terrified about messing this up and offending any of them, mainly Phil, but still -

"Hey guys, Dan's here."

Dan follows Chris into the den, which resembles his old family room - there's a TV on one wall, and a set of comfy looking armchairs with a matching couch. The walls are decorated with beautiful paintings and pictures of what looked like Phil and his family. Phil and PJ are sitting on the ground in front of the wooden coffee table, which confuses Dan at first but he dismisses it. They obviously have a reason.

"Hi." PJ greets, smiling warmly. Phil waves, and his face is lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Uh, hey." Dan replies, waving awkwardly.

Chris sits down on the ground next to the other two, and Dan quickly follows suit. His confusion must be evident on his face, because Chris grins at him.

"Couches are awkward. Besides, being in close proximity makes it easier for us to help you." He explains. "With things like the way your fingers are shaped, etc."

Dan nods. Phil offers a thumbs up and a smile in his direction, and Dan smiles in response. Phil looks at Chris for confirmation, and Chris rubs his hands together like an evil genius with a master plan.

"Okay, let's go."

Phil waves his hand in a wide arch, like he's miming a rainbow.

"So that's hello. It's also the same for goodbye - kudos to context." Chris translates, and Dan copies Phil. It's a simple move, and the meaning makes perfect sense.

"Of course you can just wave normally for either." PJ adds.

"Well, yeah, obviously. Thanks for the comment, peanut gallery." Chris says sarcastically, and PJ's grin widens.

"Anway, moving on."

Phil nods, and touches his fingertips to his chin, just below his bottom lip, and then he extends them outwards, like he's blowing Dan a kiss.

"And that means, thank you."

Dan copies, and he doesn't realise he's facing Phil when he does it, until he sees the dusting of a blush on Phil's cheeks. Dan can feel his own face warming up, and he bites the inside of his mouth whilst trying to force it down.

"If you want to mention yourself or something that is yours, you just need to point to yourself." Chris adds.

"That makes sense."

"A lot of sign language does." Chris says.

Phil nudges Chris' knee with his toes, and Chris looks over at him.

Phil taps his palm twice, and Chris sighs.

"Someone's impatient." He tells Phil, who only smirks in response.

"He wants to start explaining the alphabet to you." Chris says to Dan, so he's not sitting there, awkwardly confused.

"Sounds fun." Dan replies, and it does. He's genuinely interested in learning, and starting with the vowels and consonants seems like the best option.

Phil's smile grows impossibly wider, and if Dan thought there was something else happening with Chris, he can't find it anymore.

There's an overwhelming feeling of niceness in Dan, and fondness for these people he can call friends without choking on the words.

He likes it, new although it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the next month my posting schedule will possibly be a little haywire. I have two weeks of revision and then an exam week (16th to 20th - on that week I might not post at all) but I promise I will try my hardest to post at least something each week. I have a few oneshots up my sleeve just in case.   
> :)


	4. It's Tearing At My Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concern is creeping into everyone's minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late, hectic week and all that. This chapter isn't as long as I was hoping to have it, because I'm trying to set up future events but I don't want anything to be rushed.

"Your hand is like a whiteboard."

Dan looks at Chris like he just said the moon was hot pink or the ground was lava. PJ smiles, and Dan wonders how he can appear to know everything without being able to see it. He must be incredibly transparent if PJ can tell that he's confused.

"A whiteboard?" Dan repeats, and Phil nods.

"Yes. Each of your fingers stands for a vowel - you touch your thumb for  _'a'_ , index finger for  _'e'_ , middle finger for  _'i'_ , and so on. Five fingers, five vowels." Chris explains. He gestures to Phil, who indicates on his hand what Chris means. He points slowly, so that it is easier for

"You use your dominant hand, too. So, for example, I'm right handed, so my left hand is the whiteboard."

"So, my right hand would be the 'whiteboard'?" Dan asks, hoping he understood correctly.

"Exactly." Chris grins. "See, easy peasy."

Dan doesn't completely agree with him, but he is proud of how quickly he seems to be catching on. And, if Phil's enthusiastic grin is anything to go by, Dan isn't the only one.

"Now, you try." Chris instructs.

Dan nods. He taps each of his fingers in turn, saying the letters for each of them. Phil's grin is blinding, and Chris looks like he's going to jump up in the air or something.

"Look, you're a pro already." Chris says, encouragingly.

"We should probably stop it there," PJ commented, his hand automatically reaching out to rest on Chris' leg.

"We don't want to overload you with information, you're literally learning a new language."

Dan nods. "That sounds reasonable."

"You've caught on really well, though." Chris assures him. Phil nods enthusiastically and gives two thumbs up, prompting a crinkly smile from Dan.

"Only because of your help." Dan says. "Thank you."

Phil smiles, and Chris shrugs. "Not a problem."

There's a sense of acomplisment in Dan, that for once he hadn't actually messed anything up. He had done something right, all his fears were for nothing. And best of all, his new friends are proud of him.

_Phil is proud of him._

* * *

The next day, Dan is in English with Chris, trying to listen to Mr Prav as he drawls on about Shakespeare. The problem for him, is that he's already read Macbeth, he knows it all, so hearing it all again is just repetitive and monotonous and he honestly just cannot be bothered.

He's not the only one who can't seem to pay attention, though. Chris is rubbing his hands together on top of the table, knuckles against palms, fingers locking together. His leg is shaking, and Dan can see him worrying the skin of his bottom lip.

"Hey, Chris, are you ... are you okay?" Dan asks quietly, hesitant of not only their teacher but also of how Chris might react. He's not sure where they stand just yet, and he doesn't want to cross a line so early in the friendship.

"What?" Chris looks up, almost as though he is surprised to find Dan asking such a question.

"Are you okay?" Dan repeats, now more than just a little concerned.

"I'm fine." Chris says, before looking down at his hands, where thumb is digging into his palm.

"Oh, right, that." He says slowly, choking out an awkward laugh.

Dan waits patiently, as Chris attempts to struggle with an explanation.

"I have, uh, a behavioural disorder ... ADHD, actually, and it's not always that bad, usually it isn't. English is just ... English isn't an easy subject for me and I can get a little, uh, restless."

Dan nods slowly. "Okay."

"Okay?" Chris echoes, and Dan wonders what kind of reaction he was expecting.

"Yeah. I mean, hey, I have anger issues, it would be stupid for me to criticise you for something you can't control."

Chris smiles gratefully, and although it's small, it means a lot to Dan.

"Do you want me to explain the notes I've made?" He asks, sliding his notebook over.

"I've already studied Macbeth before, I might be able to help you make sense of it."

"You'd do that?" Chris asks, eyes wide.

"Of course." Dan replies. "Why wouldn't I? It's not fair for you to struggle because you can't understand the same way other people do."

Chris looks incredibly relieved, and a little surprised. Dan smiles gently, hoping to coney that his offer is genuine.

"Thank you," Chris says, before adding. "I know it sounds like I never get help, but that's not it. The teachers, they try hard but they don't always have the time to spare, so I usually just hide in the background. PJ helps, but he's not in my class and I feel bad asking. As for Phil ... there's only so much he can explain before I get frustrated. Usually I just pass by the scrape of my teeth."

Dan notices that Chris doesn't mention anything to do with help from his parents, so Dan doesn't mention it either, just in case it is a sore or sensitive subject for him.

"Well, now you have me in your class, and I'm never going to say 'no' if you ask me for help. In fact, I'll probably feel really good about it, because then I'm actually being helpful and useful."

Chris grins, and it's a more pleasantly happy sight than the one he'd previously had.

"Thank you." He says again, and Dan shrugs.

"You help me with the sign language, I help you with this. Seems like a pretty fair deal to me."

Chris nods, and although he's still a little fidgety, Dan ignores it, in favour of explaining to Chris the plot of the tale. He feels good, being able to help Chris out. He feels like he's slowly integrating into the friend group, and it's an undeniably good feeling.

* * *

Dan practises what he's learnt after school. After his homework is done, he sits at his desk or on his bed, and runs through the few phrases and the vowels Chris and Phil had taught him. He gets frustrated when he doesn't think he's gotten it right, but that only enforces his perseverance, pushes him to try even harder.

Charlotte walks past his bedroom one evening, a few days after Dan had gone to Phil's house. He doesn't notice her presence, too occupied remembering how many fingers he was supposed to salute when he trying to introduce himself. She watches patiently, as he repeats the movement over and over, a sense of pride filling her.

She had been worried, when Dan first told her about his new friends, because life had never been easy for him, and the last people he had cared about had torn him apart. She wouldn't be able to bear it, if he went through the same torture again. It would break him, shatter him completely, and she'd only just gotten him back to some semblance of the person he had been before his world had been turned upside down.

Charlotte wishes she could have faith and trust in his friends, that they wouldn't hurt him. But she hadn't met them yet, she has no idea what they were like apart from what Dan had told her, which was basically the barest possible details. And, because she knows her brother better than he does, better than anybody else in the world, she can tell that he is starting to develop a crush on Phil. And normally, if circumstances were different, she'd be happy for him.

But after what Dan had been through, after what had happened to him the last time he had fallen for someone ... she can't afford to not worry. She hopes that Dan will realise soon, even if it's just so that he can tell her, so that they can talk about it and figure out what to do about it. Even, just so that she can meet these new friends of his, try and read them and hopefully work out if it's safe for him this time.

She wasn't there for Dan the last time, when he was torn apart by people he cared about. She's not going to repeat the same mistakes again.

* * *

"I think it should have some more, high-pitched noises. Something a little shriller, to enforce the eeriness."

Chris looks over at Phil, who shrugs.

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Chris asks PJ.

"Well, we could use a pan-flute, or even a normal flute, I'm sure the music room has a few. Or maybe a violin?"

"I get that," Chris reasons. "But we don't know anyone who can play those instruments."

He slides his hand slowly over to PJ's, which is resting on top of the table, a motion of comfort.

"I know you want to make this film the best possible thing we can, and Phil and I do too - and none of us want to use manufactured clips we found on the deepest craters of the internet - but we do need to be realistic too."

"I'm sure we could find someone." PJ protests, almost pleading, and Chris remembers how much not being able to see the final product of their film-making escapades affects him, how his heart aches because his eyes don't work like other people's do.

He squeezes PJ's hands, and he sees Phil smile sympathetically out of the corner of his eyes.

"I'm not saying we can't do it. We'll try our best, I just don't ... don't want you to feel disappointed, okay?"

PJ nods, and Chris runs his thumb across his boyfriend's knuckles.

Phil taps Chris' shoulder, and he turns around. At first he glances at Phil's notebook, where the plot ideas and snippets of their script are scrawled in Phil's elegant, unmistakeable handwriting. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he looks back up at Phil, who's lips are pursed in concentraton or thought.

Slowly, he creates a backwards 'C' with his right hand, attaching it to his left index finger. He then touches his left thumb once, and taps the middle of his left palm with his right index and middle finger.

"Dan?" Chris translates, so that Phil knows he understood, and for PJ's benefit.

Phil nods, twice.

"We should ask Dan?" PJ translates, and Chris' nerves tremble at the hope in his voice.

"We could do that." Chris agrees, but there's a seed of doubt in his stomach, because he can't be sure of Dan just yet, can't be sure of much at the moment and he hates it.

He hates worrying about Phil and PJ too, about whether Dan will hurt them and about how PJ is feeling - his emotions as unpredictable as Chris' - but it comes with the territory, comes with the privilege of being Phil's best friend and PJ's boyfriend.

It also comes with his condition, a fact which reminds him to take his medication at lunch. Skipping out on that would only jumble him even more, cut his wires until they were frayed and alive and dangerous, until everything he tried so hard to keep under control would spin away from him, out of his reach where it would dance in front of him, taunting him.

He had done it before, and it was not an experience he enjoyed.

Not only that, but he didn't like the person he became when his condition had all of the power.

* * *

_'I really like him.'_

Phil's teeth tug on his bottom lip, his fingers toying with the strands of fabric that have begun to fray on his childhood blanket. He's alone in his room, with only his thoughts and they're running rampant in his mind, burning a blazing trail down his insides until they come to a crashing stop at his heart.

_'I shouldn't like him.'_ He chastises himself, because he can't afford it. It's taken him too many years just getting comfortable around his own friends. And sure, he's connected with Dan incredibly well for such a short time, and he truly thinks they could be good friends.

But becoming something  _more_ is far too risky at this point. He doesn't want to lose Dan, and although he likes Dan, a lot, there's a small, nagging part of him that doesn't completely trust him yet.

And that part is usually the one with the loudest voice.


	5. See The World Through My Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An insight into the way PJ sees the world
> 
> Also slightly blooming Phan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might edit with actual notes later I have like three minutes to post.

There are days, for many people, when the world comes crashing down around them, where the sky is filled with dark, looming clouds and getting out of bed is the worst thing imaginable. There are days, for everyone, when facing the world is not something they want to do and hiding away from it all is far more desirable.

For PJ, who is behind most of the world with only four working senses, those bad days happen more often than he'd honestly like them to.

Nothing appears to be wrong when he first wakes up. He turns off his alarm, swings back his covers, and pads to his bathroom. The sinks are all touch-sensitive, his mother hangs clean towels up for him every day in an attempt to help him retain as much independence as physcially possible, and the shower is set to a specific temperature so he never burns or freezes himself. His mum sets his uniform out for him too, although he struggles a little with the tie sometimes, and doing his hair is as simple as running his fingers through the tangles of his curls. It's a set routine, and one that helps him feel a little more independent, his lost sense not as much of a nuisance as it could be.

He trails his fingers across the wall as he makes his way through the hall, waiting until he brushes against the doorjamb to the kitchen before he turns to enter the room. He can smell everything, the smoke as it rises from the toaster, meaning it's about to pop, the citrus tang from the glass of orange juice his mum has set out for him, the waft of coffee from his father's mug. He finds himself smiling has he takes a seat at the breakfast bar, the stool scratching along the tiles as he pulls it out.

"Good morning, PJ." His mother says, sliding across a plate which, unless his nose is lying to him, has buttered toast with honey on it.

His favourite.

"Morning, Mum. Hi, Dad." PJ says, reaching with careful fingers to pick up a piece of toast.

"Hello, son." His father says. PJ can hear the low rustling of the newspaper his father's turning.

The toast crunches as PJ takes another bite. He listens to the bustle of the morning as he eats. He can hear his mum bustling around the kitchen, can hear the fridge opening and closing as she clears up the kitchen, the sliding of the drawer as she puts the toaster away. The click of her heels as she returns to the room having dressed for work, the low murmur of her and his father's voices as they whisper to each other.

"Are you ready PJ?" His mum asks. PJ nods, standing up and brushing off any possible crumbs from his top. The sink runs briefly as his dad rinses their dishes, clinking as they're stacked in the dishrack.

"Sure, Mum." PJ replies, straightening the hem of his blazer regardless of whether it is actually distorted or not.

"Have a good day at school." His dad says, and PJ wishes him a good day at work as he follows him mum out to the garage.

His fingers slide under the handle of the door, pulling it open, mindful of the wall so as not to make a dent in it. He slides into the car, his bag resting at his feet, his hand automatically reaching for the volume control.

He can hear the soft tones of his mother's laugh as she turns on the ignition. His favourite CD is still in, as he still hadn't taken it out and he wanted to see how long he could have it in for. He sings along as his mother drives, tapping his fingers on the dashboard in front of him.

As far as days go, his has gotten off to a fairly good start. Much like most other days.

But, then he gets to school, and suddenly the weight off the world has shifted onto his shoulders.

He's used to the slight murmuring of other students, especially from the younger years who haven't learnt how to respect other people just yet. Today it feels louder, though, and as he walks down the hallway to his locker he can feel their voices pressing in on him.

His lock is tricked so it clicks when it lands on the right number, but for some reason it takes him longer than normal to try and open it today and that just agitates him. He finally gets it open, his stuff for the day put away in his locker, when he realises that Chris isn't at school yet. Usually, if they don't meet at the gates, they run into each other at the lockers. He hasn't even gotten a phone call yet, though, which is worrying.

"Hey, PJ." He hears someone, Dan, say. There's a warm hand on his arm, and the touch and pressure is distinctly Phil's.

"Hi." He greets, turning to the direction of their voices.

There's a pause, and then he hears Dan ask. "Where's Chris?"

PJ shrugs, curious as to whether his concern is clear on his face or not. He'd never think it was possible, if Phil and Chris hadn't, on multiple occasions, worked out when he was sad or angry or happy or proud. Then again, they could have just been reading him, as they know him better than most.

"I don't know. I haven't heard anything from him."

The silence that follows is slightly distressing, and PJ has a strong urge to call Chris just to find out where he is, if only to ease everyone's concern.

"I'm sure he'll turn up soon." Dan says, trying to reassure them all, and PJ nods half-heartedly.

Just then, the bell rings through the school, and PJ can feel his shoulders sink under the weight of his concern.

"We should get to class." Dan says, and then there's a shuffling noise and, as far as PJ guesses, he and Phil walk to their own lockers.

PJ collects his things for class, and he's just shut his locker when he hears Dan and Phil return to his side.

"Phil just messaged Chris." Dan says. PJ nods, hoping they'll get a reply soon, and allows Dan to lead him to class.

Chris had missed school before, and there were rare, once-a-year-occurences where Chris accidentally forgot to tell PJ he was going to be late.

But he hardly ever made it to the first period without even a short voicemail. PJ knew about everything, knew when something was wrong and how to even minimise the effect it had on Chris.

He wasn't used to not knowing where Chris was, and he didn't like it.

* * *

"Hey."

PJ hears Chris' soft, unmistakeable voice, inches from his ear, and he feels like crying. He leans back against his locker for support, all the worry he had bottled up releasing with his shallow breaths. Chris laces their fingers together, and squeezes.

PJ squeezes back.

"I'm sorry I didn't call." Chris says in a quiet voice, as though he's too afraid to even speak.

"Mum needed some help for work, I had to catch a later bus."

PJ nods, and even though he feels like there's something Chris isn't telling him, he knows better than to push. Chris likes routine, he's probably a little rattled because of the changes. In times like this he needs some space, some time to swallow the disruption. He's probably worrying that he's upset PJ too, because he worries far too easily, and PJ doesn't want to make him feel worse.

"You're here now." PJ says, tugging on his boyfriend's hand to pull him closer.

"That's all that mattes." He adds, and then Chris' lips are on his and he feels like a space inside of him has been filled.

"You're not upset?" Chris asks, pulling back. His free hand reaches up to brush PJ's hair back, and the touch sends pleasant shivers down PJ's spine.

"Of course not. I would have liked you to call, but you're here now and that's more important to me than anything else." PJ admitted.

Chris kisses him again, soft and slow, and PJ almost melts into the touch.

"I agree with Phil here, guys. A little less PDA if possible."

Chris pulls away with a laugh in his throat, his hand moving from PJ's to around his waist.

"Peej is lucky because he doesn't have to see the glare you're giving us." Chris comments.

Even though PJ knows there is no cruel intent behind his words, they still strike a cord in his heart. He's never been shy about his condition, his eyes have never worked and he's never been able to see so he doesn't know what it's actually like. And most days that doesn't bother him, because it's kind of hard to miss something that he's never had.

But sometimes it hurts a little, to be different from others. It makes him feel like he's removed from the rest of the world, seperated by an invisible barrier that labels him as 'weird' and 'different' and a 'freak'. Sometimes, he wishes he could see the world the way others do.

And being reminded that he can't, can be like a stab to the heart.

"Are you okay?" Chris whispers in his ear.

"Yeah." PJ nods.

He can't concern Chris with a tiny little issue that he knows how to deal with. It would be turning a rainy day into a violent thunderstorm and there is nothing useful about that. He just needs some time to distract himself from the issue at hand and he'll be fine.

There's something about the way Chris' hand tightens on PJ's hip, in the way his fingers curl and how he pulls PJ closer, that implies he knows something is wrong, something is playing on PJ's mind. He doesn't ask what it is, he doesn't mention it at all, so PJ keeps quiet too.

If it becomes a serious problem, he'll tell Chris. But there's no point concerning him if there isn't that much to be concerned about.

He's fine.

* * *

Phil thinks something is up with PJ.

Usually, his best friend is quite relaxed and at ease, and it in turn creates a sense of calm for everyone else. Phil's not sure whether it's because he's just used to constantly watching people, or whether he just knows PJ enough to recognise when there's a problem, all he does know is that something is wrong and he doesn't know what it is.

It can't be anything to do with Chris, because as soon as he turned up PJ was clinging to him, melting against him - although Phil knows that means PJ was worried about Chris and his whereabouts, it also means he's relieved.

He doesn't think it's because of him or Dan, because it would be more noticeable, and he doesn't think either of them have done anything. PJ was okay when he got to school, so Phil is at a dead-end when it comes to figuring out what the issue actually is.

It's subtle, hidden in the slight rigidness to his shoulders and the way he leans into Chris more than usual, the way his mouth doesn't quite turn up at the corners when he smiles in the same way it usually would. The slightly melancholy tones to his voice when he speaks, the way his fingers keep tapping on his knee.

Things he only does when he's nervous, or when something is bothering him.

And it worries Phil, that he can't work out what it is.

He can't help.

* * *

"Are you okay?"

Phil looks over as Dan nudges his shoulder. They're walking home together, because as they recently discovered their homes aren't that far of a walk away from each other. Phil didn't realise he'd lost himself in thought, but what was even more surprising, and slightly warming, was that Dan noticed.

He would've thought that would be hard, considering he never speaks. Apparently, for Dan, it's not.

Phil nods, because he's fine. A little concerned about PJ, but other than that, he's okay.

Dan's eyeing him suspiciously, and Phil wonders how he's supposed to respond, as it doesn't look like Dan's going to accept nothing is wrong.

He makes a small, almost flattened oval with his right index finger and thumb, and he attatches it to the point of his left index finger. Once Dan nods in recognition, Phil swipes his right index finger down his left middle finger and across his palm to the top of his thumb.

_PJ._

"You're worried about PJ?" Dan guesses, and Phil nods.

"Do you think something's wrong?" Dan asks, and Phil nods, before shrugging.

"You think so, but you're not sure?" Dan guesses, a little uncertain, and Phil nods, not only proud of how quickly Dan is catching on, but also surprised at how easily he seems to understand what Phil's trying to express.

"I don't know him as well as you do, obviously. And I'm not saying there isn't anything bothering him, but surely he would have said something if it was a serious problem?"

Phil purses his lips. He knows that Dan is probably right, after all PJ's a naturally easygoing person, if there was a problem he would have said something, even if it was just to Chris. But PJ had been acting relatively normal all day, laughing and smiling and joking...

But there was still something a little off about his behaviour, something not quite right. Phil would have to message him later - online, where PJ's computer could read aloud the words for him to hear. Either that, or he'd just wait until they got to school the next day - he could see if Chris had noticed anything, ask if he knew what was up.

"Hey, so, my sister ... I've told you about Charlotte?"

Phil nods, noticing that Dan had slowed down his walking. They still had a few minutes of distance left, he couldn't work out why Dan had changed his pace.

"Right. Anyway, I've told her about you and PJ and Chris, and she wants to meet you guys."

Phil raises his eyebrows slowy. He's heard a little about Dan's sister - that they live together, and that she's about four-and-a-half years older than him, and that she's Dan's best friend. Apart from that, Dan hadn't revealed too much, and Phil's interested in meeting her. Dan appears a little apprehensive though, and Phil can't work out why.

He tilts his head, encouraging Dan to go on. Dan sighs, and rubs the back of his neck.

"It's just her and I, and she means the world to me. But she can be a little forward, and I don't want you guys to be startled by anything she asks or comments. She'd never say anything mean, but she also doesn't lie or sugarcoat things very well."

Phil smiles. He likes her already. He pulls out his phone, deciding it would be much better to communicate what he wants to say throught text. Dan, getting the memo, waits patiently.

_'I'd love to meet her, she sounds awesome. And I'm sure that PJ and Chris won't mind. It takes a lot to offend us, Dan, we've built tough shells. Like turtles.'_

Dan laughs as he reads the message off Phil's phone.

"I'll talk to her tonight." He says. "Work out a time that suits her too. I don't think she'll say no to the idea, though."

Phil grins, and Dan smiles too.

_'Sounds like a plan.'_

Phil puts his phone away, and he sighs quietly as Dan brushes his shoulder again, his teeth pressing down lightly on his bottom lip. Phil glances over, wishing as soon as he does that he hadn't, because it sends the beat of his heart into overdrive.

He thinks his hopes of ignoring his crush on Dan are becoming quite pointless, as the harder he tries the easier it becomes to notice all the adorable, little things about Dan; like the way his eyes sparkle when he smiles or the little twitch his nose gives when his thinking or concentrating on something.

He's hopless. And it shouldn't make him feel so happy.

But somehow, it does.

Somehow, Dan does.


	6. Freaks Like Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan begins to question his feelings for Phil, and what he should do about them. Meanwhile, PJ struggles with being 'different'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big things are starting to get revealed, guys, get ready for this emotional rollercoaster.

"Yes, Daniel?"

Charlotte looks up, eyebrows raised expectantly. Dan shuffles his feet, displacing his weight from side to side, wishing he didn't feel as nervous as he actually did. Charlotte blinks slowly as she waits for him to speak, silently marking her place in her book and placing it down on the coffee-table in front of her.

"So, you know my friends, right?"

Charlotte nods, feigning seriousness. "I have heard of them, yes. Although, their names seem to be escaping me..."

Dan glares at her, and she just smiles.

"Anyway," Dan contines. "I got this ... _feeling_... that you wanted to meet them."

"And I still do." Charlotte cuts in, sitting up slowly.

"Well, I asked Phil, and he seemed pretty okay with the idea-"

"Are _you_?"

Dan's gaze slides to the ground, where it's safer, where he can't see the emotions, the concern and sympathy on his sister's face. He's not entirely opposed to the idea, he wouldn't have asked Phil, if he was ... but he also knows that Charlotte wants, and deserves, his honest beliefs.

"I want you to meet them, and I want them to meet you, you're the most important person in my world ... but it's kind of a big deal isn't it?"

"I suppose. It depends on how you view it - you could see it as just introducing your friends to your sister."

"But they're not just my friends." Dan mutters, and Charlotte is silent as he shuffles over to sit next to her on the couch.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" Charlotte asks. "Or do you want to save it for a time when you're more comfortable admitting it?"

Dan sighs. "I think ... I think I might have a crush on Phil."

"Okay."

"But ... I don't want to." Dan admits.

Charlotte's mouth turns up into a sad smile, her eyes softening. She reaches out and squeezes his shoulder gently, her way of saying _'I'm here, you're not alone'._

"I don't want to go through it all again, Char, I don't think I could handle it."

A tear slides down his cheek, and Charlotte squeezes harder, her heart tightening in her chest.

"Do you think he would treat you like that?" She asks, determined to help Dan in the way she didn't before.

"I don't know ... no, but then I didn't exactly think Adam would."

Dan sighs, raking his fingers through his hair, his nails scraping along his skull with a pressure that is grounding.

"I don't think Phil would do something like that, it doesn't fit in with his personality." He admits, his voice careful and selective. "When I look back over what happened with Adam, it was sort of lying underneath the surface, I just never expected it to actually happen. Phil ... it doesn't seem like something he'd do. But I don't think - I _can't_ be certain, and that - that really scares me."

Charlotte tugs Dan closer, and he flops his head onto her shoulder. He's taller than her, thin and lanky and the position isn't exactly comfortable, but it is _comforting_ , and right now that's what Dan needs the most - comfort from someone he knows loves him.

"Maybe you should tell him."

Dan tenses up rigidly, and Charlotte kisses his forehead, in an attempt to ease his fear.

"Not about your crush, or even necessarily about Adam. Just, little things. Maybe he can help you, with things like your anger, and if he knows about - _that which shall not be mentioned_ \- you can figure out whether you'd be safe with him."

Dan releases the tension in his shoulders through the breath of a sigh. He digs his nails into the soft skin of his palm, his way of tugging on the string that connects him to reality. He knows that Charlotte is right, she always is, and it's not a bad idea, if he's being honest to himself.

But he's still scared. What had happened with Adam has scarred him, and what happened with his parents afterwards just multiplied the pain.

And he really likes Phil. Which he shouldn't. But he does.

"Maybe, maybe the anger part would be a good thing to mention. I don't want to Hulk out on him and scare him off."

Charlotte nods slowly. "Not a bad place to start. From what I can gather, you still want to be friends with him, and telling him things about you - even little by little - can help to strengthen your friendship."

Dan sniffs, leaning into Charlotte.

"When did you get so smart?" He asks, his voice quiet, child-like.

"When you were born and I had to become a big sister. At first I just wanted to be smarter than you, and then I realised that you were a baby and you didn't know anything anyway. Now, it's just because one of us has to be the clever one."

Dan scoffs out a laugh, too emotionally drained to do anything else.

"Now you're just abusing your older sister status and privileges." He comments.

Charlotte shrugs the shoulder Dan isn't lying on. "What are sisters for?"

Dan is silent for a moment, and when he does speak it's barely audible.

"You're more than just a sister. You're my best friend."

Charlotte doesn't respond, determinedly blinking back tears before they can slide down her cheeks.

* * *

When Phil was fourteen, he asked his mother if she could get him a journal for his birthday. Having no voice to speak from gave him increased frustration, daily, and so having somewhere that he could write all his thoughts and feelings down in, seemed like the only appropriate option.

She had no objection, wanting only the best for her son, and aware of how averse to communicating with a specialist therapist he was. So, when his birthday rolled around, she gave him a deep blue, leather-bound notebook with a string he could use to keep it closed.

By the time summer rolled around, he had it filled, and so his mother bought him another one. Each time he had filled one, he recieved another one, but he never threw any of them out.

Now, they all sit at the bottom of his closet, in an old shoebox with faded wraping paper and magazine clippings spelling out _'My Words'._

 _Dan is one of my best friends._ He writes, scribbling the words in impeccable handwriting on lined paper in a Pokemon themed notebook.

_He's amazing, and he's really funny - he fits in with Chris and Peej, too, like he's been a part of the group from the start and not just a couple of months._

Phil's hand flies across the page, the pen etching his thoughts so fast he's surprised the paper doesn't set on fire.

_And I really like him. Really, really, like him. But I can't, because I don't know how to be in a relationship, I've never even been kissed, and - what if he finds out I like him, and he doesn't like me back? What if he doesn't want to be my friend afterwards?_

His hand starts to tense with the pressure he's using to grip the pen, but he ignores it.

_I don't want to lose him. Apart from Chris and PJ, he's the only one who hasn't teased me because I'm mute, who seems to genuinely want to be friends with me, despite my ... problem. I don't want to destroy a really good thing, all because I think he's really cute..._

There's more Phil wants to say, but he thinks that what he's written sums it up for the most part. He's not sure whether he should tell Chris or PJ, as his best friends he knows that they'd have good advice for him. Or even whether he should tell his mum, who he's always trusted with his deepest secrets.

He decides to keep quiet for the time being, until he can decide on an option with complete certainty.

* * *

It's a credit to their relationship, that Chris can see through the facade PJ throws up to hide himself. For some people, those who don't know him like Chris does, the wall that PJ puts up in front of himself is made out of brick, with a door made out of reinforced steel and an unbreakable lock.

Even for Phil, the wall is made of glass. He can see into it, he can see the problem sometimes, but then the glass gets foggy, and everything's a little blurry and no matter what he does he can't get past to help so he just watches. He sees what PJ lets him see, and nothing else.

For Chris, there isn't a wall anymore. There's nothing.

PJ doesn't have a visible defense mechanism like Chris, or even Phil, does. Chris masks his pain with humour and jokes, he hides behind a forced smile and turns the spotlight onto everyone else so that he can remain in the shadows. Phil grows silent, in his own way, he makes less attempts to communicate, and even when he does, his hands move apprehensively when he signs, and his writing his faster and more like hastened, careless scrawl.

PJ, on the surface, appears the same as normal. He talks and laughs and acts like he normally would if nothing was wrong - but he also clings to people more, to Chris, to Phil, to his parents. He seeks out comfort and attatches himself to people, as though he needs a tether to reality, a reminder that people love him.

Which is strange, because that's what Chris finds himself needing, a lot.

PJ is significantly more self-assured and comfortable, even without having his sight to guide him. He's the one that everyone else turns to when they need a hug or a deep, emotional conversation. He's the 'mother-hen', the rock that everyone leans on.

So when he starts leaning on other people, Chris gets worried.

* * *

"Do you ever wish you were normal?"

Chris' eyes widen, grateful for once that PJ can't see his reaction.

"Normalcy is boring." He comments, rubbing his thumb along the side of PJ's hand.

"But wouldn't it be nice? Even just for a day, to be like everyone else." PJ muses.

"I like being the way I am. And I like you for who you are now. Being different makes us special, unique." Chris says.

The words coming out of his mouth sound like PJ's words, and the role-reversal in their relationship is making him feel a little uncomfortable. He's not as good at this as PJ is, he never knows what to say to make someone feel better. He can make people laugh, sure, but that's not the same. That's entertainment, not advice, he can't _do_ advice.

"It makes us freaks." PJ mumbles, and Chris' breath hitches in his throat. He doesn't think he's heard PJ right, surely not, he'd never say anything like that.

"We're not freaks." Chris says, and he feels like he's not just telling PJ, he's reminding himself.

"But we're not normal, either."

PJ looks up at Chris, at the bridge of his nose really, and there's pain and sorrow in his eyes that Chris has always hoped he'd never have to see. He thinks there might be tears brimming too, and seeing his boyfriend in such a state causes Chris to start teetering on the edge.

"I just wish I could see." PJ whispers, and Chris thinks he can feel his heart starting to break in his chest.

"You can see," He replies, trailing his fingers lightly up PJ's arms, across his jaw, the way PJ had when their relationship was new and fresh, undiscovered land and unknown territory.

"It's not the same." PJ says, closing his eyes, the corners of them scrunched almost painfully.

"I want to be able to see the colour of your eyes, I want to see them sparkle when you're happy, I want to see you smile. I want to see the way Phil signs, I want to read his writing, I want to be able to talk to him without a middle-man. I don't want to have to rely on you to have conversations with my best friend. I want to know Dan the way you do, I want to _see_ the way they look at each other, not just hear how you describe it."

PJ sighs, his breath coming out warm on Chris' skin as he lies his head down on Chris' chest.

"It's not that you're not good at it, you're more help than I could ever hope for. But I feel like I'm seperated from you guys sometimes, and I hate it, I hate not being able to do all the things I want to. I never thought it would be a problem, because it's not like I have something to miss. I've never been able to see. But not knowing what it's like only makes it worse."

"I wish I was as calm as you." Chris tells him. He's not sure if admitting his own problems will help, but it's the only thing he can come up with.

"I wish I didn't have to take medication everyday in order to act like a person, I wish I didn't constantly feel like a human bomb, bursting with explosive energy. I wish I wasn't so stubborn, I wish I didn't worry as much as I do, I wish I was happier. I wish I didn't need extra help to pass my classes."

"It's not your fault," PJ responds automatically. "You have no control over that."

"I know. But it still makes me feel down sometimes. And maybe that's okay, maybe it's not. But it's something I have to deal with. I'm sure that Phil wishes he could talk to us, actually talk to us, but he can't, so he finds other ways."

Chris guides PJ's head with a light-fingered touch under his chin, lifting it up so that he can place a soft kiss on PJ's lips.

"The only people who matter, the people who love you, don't care that you can't see. And, if you want, I'm sure I could follow you with running commentary on everything and everyone around us. For example, you know Michelle, she's in our Media class, always smells like roses?"

"Yeah," PJ says softly.

"She has the worst haircut at the moment. Her bangs are all choppy and her hair is always greasy, and her highlights make her skin look grey. And her makeup always makes her look like a racoon."

Chris is exaggerating, heavily, but PJ laughs, and Chris is so happy that he thinks his heart has actually skipped a beat, and so he doesn't really care.

It's not like Michelle's ever going to find out about it anyway.

"Thank you," PJ says, kissing Chris slowly and carefully.

"I was just telling the truth."

"No," PJ smiles sadly. "You told me about your problems. You opened yourself up in order to make me feel better, and I know that couldn't have been easy for you. So, thank you."

Chris doesn't say anything, he just hugs PJ tighter, as though by having the tightest possible grip he'll be able to keep PJ forever.

It wasn't easy, unlocking the safe he keeps inside his heart, but he trusts PJ, and he thinks that, in time, it might just be helpful for the both of them.

He hopes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BAAAAACKK!!!
> 
> Sorry for the wait in chapters, what with holidays and getting prepared for school, I decided it would be a much smarter idea for me to just take a break from all ongoing fics until I was certain I could post reguarly. 
> 
> And here I am. So, posting will resume, every second week - although I, unfortunately, cannot guarantee what day. I'm going to say I hope Thursday/Friday, but I'm not making any promises in case I can't keep them.


	7. I Can't Be The Only One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan is reminded of things he'd much rather forget, and decides to make the most of the friendship Phil's giving him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MASSIVE MASSIVE THANK YOU TO 'alecsmanwhore' FOR ADVICE WITH THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> This is a work of fiction, obviously, and I claim none of these events as real.

_Adam's mouth is hard against his, heated and frantic. His fingers are pressing hard enough against Dan's waist to leave bruises, and he's slowly pushing them both backwards towards the bed. There's a funny feeling inside of Dan's stomach, like deranged moths in a hurricane, but he doesn't know why it's there so he ignores it, choosing instead to bite down on Adam's bottom lip, because that's what Adam had done to him._

_Adam throws him back onto the bed, and Dan can see something new in his eyes, they're brighter and his cheeks are flushed red. He licks his lips, they're red and shining, and Dan wipes the back of his hand across his own mouth self-consciously._

_Adam crawls onto the bed, crawls over him, and the moths in Dan's stomach start hitting the walls of his abdomen. Adam starts kissing down his neck, scraping his teeth along the skin and instead of his blood rushing downwards, instead of feeling excited like he's heard is supposed to happen, he feels like he is going to be physcially sick._

_"Adam ... Adam," He says, trying to choke the words out. Adam, taking his heavy breaths and gasping words as the opposite of what they actually are, bites down on Dan's collarbone, soothing over the bite with his tongue a moment later._

_His hips start pressing down on Dan's, and Dan has to clench his teeth and swallow hard to stop from upheaving._

_"Adam, stop." He says, wriggling his own hips in an attempt to get away. His boyfriend, either not hearing him or choosing not to comply, grinds down harder._

_"Adam, STOP!" Dan shouts, and when Adam looks up there's a gleam in his eyes much akin to confusion ... and what might just be anger._

"Shit." Dan sighs, rubbing his hand across his eyes, as though doing so will remove the memories that had forced their way to the front of his subconscious.

He'd call them nightmares, but unfortunately that's not what they are. All of it had actually happened to him, but instead of letting him ignore it in order to heal a little, his mind has an uncanny ability of reminding him when he needs to forget it the most.

Dan rolls over onto his side, his back surprisingly dry and cool. His phone tells him that the time is a quarter past six. He knows that there is no way he'll be able to go back to sleep, so he groans in annoyance and throws the covers of his bed back.

His limbs already feel heavy, as he pads down the hall to the bathroom. When he looks into the mirror, he can see the dark shadows under his eyes, sickly under the bright, eco-safe lights. His hair is ragged and disheveled, as though it hasn't been brushed in a week, and there's a paleness to his skin that should be concerning, but isn't, because it's not exactly a new occurence.

He can't remember the last time he fulfilled the proper amount of hours of sleep he's supposed to get each night. A while ago, he thinks. Months ago.

Which would only be a problem if he cared about his appearance. Which, most days, he doesn't.

"Good morning," He mutters when he sees Charlotte at the dining table, steaming mug of coffee in hand, newspaper spread on the table in front of her.

"You're up early." She comments, and there's concern in her eyes that Dan isn't ready to deal with yet.

"Yeah, I woke up and couldn't really get back to sleep. It's okay though, it means I can take my time getting ready for school."

"Well," Charlotte says, plastering on a smile that Dan knows is fake, knows is all just for him. He feels a little bad, but he's also adamant that he doesn't want to talk to her about why he's tired, so he brushes off the snide comments from his inner conscious and grits his teeth so hard he can hear them grinding.

"Do you want me to make you some breakfast?" She asks. Dan takes in her messy hair, glasses, and the odd socks still on her feet, and shakes his head.

"No, I've got it. You should get ready, we can't have _you_ being late."

Charlotte smiles at him, and Dan wants to smile back, but today is looking to be one of those days where it's hard to feel happy, so he quirks the corners of his mouth slightly, barely, and hopes it's enough.

It's not, from the barely audible sigh Charlotte releases, not really, but she heads off to her bedroom anyway. Silently, Dan thanks her for not pushing him, for understanding who he is, and for respecting him enough to let it go.

Charlotte returns into the room just as Dan's toast pops. He butters it whilst she twist her hair up into a bun, tugging the hem of her suit jacket down. He takes a bite as she checks her bag, making sure she isn't forgetting anything.

"Okay, so I'm not going to be home for tea, unfortunately, but I should be home before ten at the latest. There's food in the fridge, I'm sure you're capable of cooking, but if you just want take-out there's some money in the biscuit tin-"

"And menu's in the third drawer." Dan finishes. He smiles gently and brushes his hands on his pajama pants.

"I know what to do, Char. I'll be fine."

Charlotte nods, and reaches out to his shoulder. Dan steps forward and wraps his arms around her, careful of not crinkling her recently-pressed jacket. She brushes his hair back and kisses the top of his head, the way their mum used to when they were upset or sick.

Dan thinks it's rather fitting, seeing as how his sister has stepped up to the mantle his mother had abandoned.

"Have fun at school." She tells him, and Dan knows that underneath she's saying _"talk to Phil"_ , she just respects him enough not to say it aloud.

"Try not to murder your boss."

Charlotte laughs, she almost snorts, and Dan looks down to hide his grin.

She yells goodbye from the door and Dan shouts back. And then it hits him, that he's all alone for at least an hour, and he wishes he could crawl back into bed, slip into slumber where memories won't haunt him and the darkness is only a comfort and not a burden.

Unfortunately, that isn't an option for him.

* * *

_'Is something wrong?'_

Dan looks up after reading the note Phil slides him, and immediately wishes he hadn't. Phil's bright cerulean eyes are wide, earnest and concerned, and it just reminds Dan why he shouldn't have tried to make friends in the first place. Unfortunately, he can't exactly ignore Phil, because that wouldn't be fair to him, he doesn't deserve to get ignored.

Dan would like to think that he is better than that, that he'd never stoop to that level, that Phil is helping him become better than that. At the same time, he's knows he's really not.

"I didn't really have a good night's sleep, that's all." Dan explains.

  

_"You can't be serious Dan, we were having fun, weren't we?"_

  

Phil must notice his slight grimace, because he lifts a hand up, almost as though he's going to comfort Dan. His hand hovers above Dan's forearm before he notices what he's doing, retracting it quickly. His cheeks are flushed and Dan's not sure why. Phil looks down at his own notebook, scribbling down notes from the textbook in front of him.

Dan feels as though he's done something wrong, even though he knows he hasn't, and he has to figuratively bite down on his tongue to keep the multitude of apologies from spilling out.

He tries to focus on the work that has been set for them, honestly he does, but there's a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he's being an ass, that he's upset Phil, or made him angry, both things he never wants to do.

"Hey, Phil?" He says, nudging Phil's elbow with his to make sure Phil hears. Phil turns to look at him, and while there is curiosity and a hint of surprise, there isn't any anger or hurt in his eyes, which Dan is infinitely grateful for.

Dan takes his encouraging smile as a sign to continue, and sighs deeply.

"My sister isn't going to be home until late tonight, and I'm not entirely fond of being alone - do you want to come over after school? We can play video games, and you can stay for tea if you want..."

He can feel himself blushing as he hears how it must sound to ears that aren't his own. He presses his lips together firmly, as though by doing so he'll be able to prevent any more embarrassing sentences from escaping.

Despite any blunders Dan might have made, Phil smiles, and it shines with the blinding force of the sun.

He nods enthusiastically, and rips off a piece of paper from the back of his workbook. Dan evens his breathing out as he waits for Phil's message, proud of himself for spitting the words out without stressing over what he's talking about. It's a small miracle, but it's one that he feels should be celebrated regardless. Charlotte's always telling him to concentrate on the small acheivements, like painting an image by number, slowly and patiently, one small part at a time.

Phil slides the slip of paper over, grinning a mile wide.

_'I would love to! :D'_

Dan grins, and there's a strange sense of something he thinks is happiness. He's not entirely sure, because it's been a while since he's felt it, and so strongly.

Phil looks happy too, and even though he basically always looks like the human embodiment of a Care Bear, Dan knows that he's played even just a small part in how wide Phil's grin is, and that is something he doesn't usually cause.

Even though he knows he should be distancing himself from Phil, because things hadn't ended well with the last guy he'd been, _affectionate with_ , he's finding himself practically gravitating towards Phil and he doesn't think he'll be able to put any walls up.

At least none that will be strong enough to keep Phil out.

* * *

"I know it's not that big, it's only the two of us, and sometimes the heater cuts out for a few hours and I honestly think we get more blackouts than the rest of England-"

Dan's words trail off as Phil places a gentle hand on his shoulder. There's honesty to his smile, which reaches his eyes and creates small crinkles at the corners of them, and Dan has to look away.

"It's home, you know?" He whispers, and Phil nods. There's a heavy feeling weighing down on Dan's shoulders, so he shrugs them and shakes his head slightly, hoping to get rid of it.

"Video games?" He suggests, and he thinks that Phil must know, must sense how awkward Dan feels, but he doesn't act like it, and Dan has a feeling that even if Phil _could_ talk about it, he probably wouldn't.

Phil nods, and Dan forces a smile as he leads the way into the loungeroom. He and Charlotte had snagged his playstation when he left; and although it was kind of outdated, and there were scratches and a few deeper grazes - a result of failed levels and frustration - on the sleek black surface, it was his, and it was a subtle reminder of a better time.

"You're the guest, so you can pick. Drink?"

Phil nods, and Dan mentally runs through the contents of the fridge.

"Sprite?"

Another nod, and a smile that prompts a small one from Dan.

Dan holds a can up to each of his cheeks once he's gotten two out of the fridge, hoping to cool them down enough for him to re-enter the room appearing like he's calm and collected, even though he really isn't. It works, but he has a feeling that it won't last.

He walks back into the room, and freezes in his tracks. Phil is searching through Dan's collection, past the movies and games and CD's, and seemingly out-of-nowhere he finds something that causes him to gasp - kind of. The sound is airy, and if the distance between them was further Dan's sure he wouldn't have heard.

But he did, and it sparks something unknown inside him. Phil rocks back on his heels, and there's a split-second before he notices Dan's presence, where this look of excitement dances across his eyes. It turns into a beacon when he spots Dan, and it's that acknowledgment that spurs Dan to _actually walk into the room._

"Here," He says, handing Phil the can instead of throwing it, just in case he accidentally hits Phil in the face and gives him a black eye or something.

Phil smiles in gratitude, and when he touches his fingers to his chin, Dan feels his self-esteem spike, just slightly, because he _knows_ what it means.

"You're welcome." He tells Phil, grinning widely, and the awe and pride in his eyes almost bowls Dan over.

It reminds Dan of when he'd gotten his first ever A grade. It had been in eighth grade, for a French test, and it still puzzled him how he'd managed to score such a high mark. His parents had been proud, they always were when it came to academic achievements, but Charlotte had showered him in hugs and praise and annoying forehead kisses, and she had looked at him with so much pride that he'd felt like he was walking on clouds for a week.

Phil's smile elicits the same dreamy feeling, the same Cloud Nine pedestal.

Then he sees the game that Phil has picked out for them, and a fierce determination fights with the pride for top emotional priority.

"MK is my jam." He informs Phil, sliding the disc in. Phil quirks an eyebrow, almost saying _'is that a challenge?'_

"And yes, that is a challenge. Which I will win."

Phil smiles, and shakes his head slightly, but Dan knows that he will win.

There is no one better than him at Mario Kart.

* * *

After two hours, and countless rounds of turtle-shell-shock and surprise banana-peel-attacks, Dan emerges uncontested victor.

Much to Phil's clear and glaringly obvious annoyance.

_'You cheated.'_ Phil texts Dan, because long winding sentences are hard to get out in sign language even if both parties can communicate in it fluently, and texting is faster than handwriting.

"I did not." Dan replies, the ghost of a smirk dancing across his lips. It feels nice, to smile and joke properly.

"You just suck at the game. There's nothing wrong with admitting that."

Phil shakes his head, and there's a moment where Dan feels like leaning in, to kiss the deliberate frown away. He brushes the thought off immediately, choosing to stand up and stretch instead, to distract himself.

"Pizza?" He asks, because it's past six and his stomach is trying to tell him that it wants to be fed, and it will not be silenced. Phil nods, and stretches his own bean-pole legs out in front of him.

"Any preferences?" Dan asks, and after a moment of consideration Phil shakes his head.

Dan leaves the room with a shy smile, and he's just finished placing their order when he hears the creak as the doorknob turns.

_Crap._ Is his immediate thought, quickly followed by _how the hell am I going to handle this._

Sure, he wants Charlotte to meet his friends, but not at night, and especially not after being alone in the house for a few hours.

He doesn't trust his sister not to embarrass him. She'd never met his friends before, not properly, and she had a strange relationship with power. Playing Monopoly is a nightmare, because she's like a natural-born tycoon.

Of course, Charlotte would never say anything nasty or deliberately incriminating to Phil, who she seems to know more about than what Dan has told her. She'd just talk and Dan would die of embarassment.

There's also, of course, the small, insignificant issue of a communication barrier he has to worry about.

"Dan, I hope you're not napping." Charlotte calls, and Dan sucks in a sharp breath as she rounds the corner, into the kitchen/dining area.

"Oh, you're there." She says, placing her bag on the end of the bench against the wall, her keys chiming as she hangs them on the hook.

Dan nods with a tight smile, completely at a loss as to how he was going to fix this. His anxiety buzzed, making him hyper-aware of his situation and every wrong turn it could take.

"Yeah," He chokes. Her eyes narrow, but before she can say anything, Phil walks in, and Dan thinks he can actually _see_ the world crashing down around him.

Charlotte's eyebrows raise curiously, for a fleeting second, before she plasters on a charming smile and turns to Phil.

"Hello, you must be Phil. I'm Dan's far-more-awesome sister, Charlotte."

Phil waves, and although there's a minute tenseness to his shoulders, his smile is real and cheerful, and Dan feels himself relaxing slightly.

"Definitely not true." Dan says, moving so he's positioned between Phil and Charlotte.

Charlotte rolls her eyes, and then glances at Dan. There's a thousand questions in her eyes, but Dan doesn't feel up to answering any of them just yet.

"I'm starving," Charlotte announces, and Dan sighs in relief.

"Pizza's on it's way." He tells her, and he can't help but laugh when she hugs him side-on. His eyes flick to Phil's, and there's an overwhelming feeling of joy that fills him.

A hug from his sister, video games with the first person he's ever come close to claiming as a real, proper best friend - coincidentally also the guy who he quite likely has a crush on; it's all too much, yet at the same time he doesn't really mind it.

Dan's glad that their first meeting ended in smiles and not tears. He's also genuinely happy, and he has no doubt it's in part, thanks to Phil. Which should be the cause for delight, but isn't, because it means that Dan is falling too hard, and that didn't work out so well for him last time.

He can't afford to go through it all again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I apologise for any inaccuracies. I did get advice from someone who is asexual, to gain as much correctness with Dan's experience as I could.


	8. Shards Of The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan takes a mental day, because he needs some time to just think.

"You two looked pretty comfortable together."

Dan and Charlotte are cleaning up, Phil's mum had picked him up about ten minutes ago, and they had been working in silence up until now.

"We're pretty good friends." Dan admits, which he thinks Charlotte knew anyway, she's just teasing him because she obviously hates him.

Probably.

"You looked like more than just _'good friends'_ to me." Charlotte replies, and Dan knows she's teasing, he can hear it in her voice.

And he's not sure what it is, his adamant strive to convince himself he isn't crushing on Phil, the imprint his recently emerged memories have left on him or just his crippling fear of the unknown - but something inside of him snaps.

It's most likely a combustion of all the things that he's been pushing down and ignoring, and the fact that instead of dealing with his anger he's just been letting it bubble and fester, and even though he knows that he should talk it out instead of yelling, his brain isn't really accepting that.

"I said we're just friends." He snaps, low and harsh, and his hands are trembling and his blood pressure is probably boiling and all of his wires feel fried.

"We're nothing more, and we never will be, because I'm _me_ , and I'm messed up and I have too many issues to even cope with most days and it's not fair to load that onto him. Not to mention my last boyfriend almost - _did things I didn't want_ \- to me and when my parents found out that, not only are they never going to have 'proper biological grandchildren' from me, but they have a son who's a 'freak' because he's not even slightly interested in the prospect of sex in the first place. they kicked me out and practically disowned me."

He sighs, and it's biting and sharp around the edges and Charlotte still hasn't spoken yet - not that he's really noticed.

"The fact that Phil is even willing to be my friend is already a wish come true. I'm not willing to destroy possibly the greatest thing to happen to me in the past year beause of ridiculous feelings I should be better at coping with."

Dan's nails bite into his skin when he digs them into his palm, and he knows if he presses any harder he'll surely draw blood, but at the same time doing so is helping him _feel_ , helping him take some semblance of control back, and right now that is exactly what he needs.

"I'm going to bed." He tells Charlotte, his voice croaking, and he's fully aware of the tears burning his cheeks as they fall. He knows he should apologise, and he will, just not yet.

He's already snapped at her. There's no need to make it any worse.

* * *

_'I think we had a moment. Nothing actually happened, but there was this, electric feeling in the air, coursing through me and - surely Dan must have felt it too? We've been getting closer, and I think he might just be comfortable with me, or at the very least growing more at ease around me.'_

A pause. A mind full of whirring thoughts. And then, pen is put back to paper, and memories are etched in inked words.

_'He beat me at Mario Kart, too. Which is not that weird, as I'm not that good and he's, he's amazing at it. I just - I had a lot of fun, last night. And I met his sister, who's really nice, I can see how much they mean to each other. I kind of wonder where his parents are, though. I'm not going to ask him, if he wants to tell me I'm sure that he will, and if he doesn't, well it's not really any of my business.'_

A deep breath. A deeper exhale. A clearer mind.

_'I do wonder, though, how long it will take to break down his walls. I guess it depends on how willing he is to let me.'_

* * *

The next morning Dan wakes up at half-past ten, feeling less fulfilled than he should, even after roughly ten hours sleep. He'd spent the hours before he collapsed to exhaustion the night before, spilling tears onto the cotton slip of his pillow, pouring his hurt and anger and confusion into hushed sobs. He's pretty sure that Charlotte walked in on him at one point, but he'd been facing the wall so he couldn't be sure, and if she _had_ she hadn't said anything to him.

It's only once he reaches the kitchen, fully intent on grabbing some juice and maybe some toast, that he realises how late he is for school. He freaks for a second, because even though it's only a day he's missing, it's still school and he promised himself he'd do better this year.

But there's a note on the bench, from Charlotte, which eases his tension slightly.

_Dan,_

_I've left for work, there's leftover pizza in the fridge, and my phone will be on in case you need me for anything, don't feel afraid to call or text. Don't worry about school, I'll drop past after work to see if you need any notes or homework._

_Take a mental-health day. Relax, breathe, sort your thoughts out so they're a little clearer. I know things with you are a little frazzled at the moment, and that's perfectly fine. Hell, you can just sleep all day if that's what you want to do. As long as you're feeling even just a little okay._

_I'll see you later._

_With chocolate. Fixes everything._

_\- Love, Charlotte._

There have been a lot of times where Dan has truly been astounded by how much Charlotte actually cares for him. It's like her personal goal is to convince him that she loves him, truly, actually loves him, the way family should.

She knows when to push, and when to leave him alone. And she always knows exactly the right words to say.

He feels incredibly horrible for being so rude to her last night, especially when she hasn't done anything wrong, he's just frustrated and taking it all out on her, which is not fair at all, and he knows it.

But he's also never been good at apologies, never been too good at admitting his mistakes, acknowledging that he has done something wrong and it _is his fault_ , and nobody else's.

Because even though he always feels sorry, even though he always wants to say it, he knows that most of the time things are likely his fault, actually apoligising means taking responsibility, and it pulls him out of the shadows he prefers to hide in, sticks him in the limelight that stings his eyes like UV rays.

Basically, it's hard, and it's undesirable, and therefore Dan's brain tells him that it's a bad idea, and he should pretend nothing is wrong, and so usually, he does.

This time, however, it feels wrong. And so, he decides to apologise to Charlotte as soon as she gets home.

He might even hug her.

* * *

Dan's not at school, and whilst Chris is sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation behind it, he and PJ can both tell that Phil is worried, which naturally in turn, worries them.

"I'm sure he's just not feeling well today, or something." Chris reasons, when they're sitting at lunch.

Phil's been writhing his hands for at least five minutes already, and his eyes keep darting around, almost as though he expects to see Dan walking over to them, calm and nochalant, as though he hasn't been missing from school all day.

_I saw him yesterday._ Phil signs.

"After school?" Chris clarifies, and Phil nods.

"And he seemed okay, when you saw him last?"

Phil nods again, and Chris' lips purse slightly. He doesn't know Dan well enough to determine whether his absence is any cause for concern or whether he really just isn't having a good day.

"Maybe it's a twenty-four-hour virus, or maybe he just slept in. There's thousands of reasons as to why he's not here." Chris says. He has no idea if he's right, or even if it will help in any way.

"I'm sure he'll be here tomorrow." PJ says. He seems okay today, from everything Chris can gather, but he's still wary, and now he has two - possibly three, although he doesn't want to make any assumptions about Dan just yet - friends to worry about, so he'd rather not presume everything is completely back to okay.

"Yeah, and if you're really worried, you can always text him later. It might help ease your concern, even just a little." Chris adds.

Phil nods, conceding that it is a pretty good idea, and tunes back into the group. His eyes dart a little less, but his shoulders are still a little tense, and it's fairly obvious that he's more than just a little concerned. Ever the self-less friend, however, he asks questions and carries on with normal conversation just as he would if Dan was there, sitting in the circle with them.

There's even a point where he appears to have forgotten his worries, just a bit, where he's more like the Phil they see every day, the Phil they know inside and out, the Phil they love like a brother.

Even so, Chris has to himself admit that he's a little worried about Dan too. Which, brings him to the realisation that he does care for Dan, as a friend, as one of them, and it's then he decides that he needs to be a little kinder to Dan, a little more open when it comes to his and Phil's obvious crush on each other.

Of course, if Dan does anything to hurt Phil, in any way, he will have to suffer whatever consequences Chris comes up with at the time. Because no one hurts his best friend and gets away with it.

Chris may not be able to do much, but he sure as hell can try to protect the people he loves.

* * *

Dan remembers Adam. He remembers everything, from when they first met - back in year eight, they were in the same drama class, which Dan had originally found strange, as Adam was stereotypically-jock-like, but quickly found himself pleasently surprised by his talent - to the first time they had a proper conversation.

But more than anything, even when he doesn't want to, Dan remembers their first kiss.

He'd never kissed anyone, so there had been no 'noticing the signs' for him. They'd been in year nine, it was about half-way through the year, and Adam had run into - though thankfully not literally - Dan after school. Dan had just left the library, and Adam was just finished with football practice.

He'd found it a little strange, because even though he and Adam had shared conversations in their past, brief ones, and Adam was always incredibly civil otherwise, they hadn't really spoken to each other that much. They weren't friends, not even in the slightest sense, they didn't run in the same social circles and all of Adam's friends seemed to despise Dan's very existence.

So, of course, when Adam, head-jock and all-round-Mr-Popular 'bumped' into Dan's shoulder and starting asking questions like "how are you?" and "studied hard, have we?", Dan was more than just a little confused.

He'd answered Adam's questions, though, if a little warily, and Adam had smiled - his smile was always full of shiny, pearl teeth and shining eyes, it was charming and heavenly and one of many reasons Dan always felt himself going weak in the knees whenever Adam was around.

Dan hadn't even noticed Adam's glancing eyes, he didn't see the way they flicked down to his mouth and then back up, didn't see Adam's tongue dart out to swipe across his own lips. He'd noticed Adam's hand when it hovered next to his cheek, he'd been able to _feel_ the warmth radiating from Adam's palm, _so close, he's so close._

And then Adam had leaned in, his mouth inches from Dan's, and Dan's heart sped into overdrive. He'd felt like he was dreaming, and if he wasn't in shock he would have pinched himself, but as it was he could do nothing but stare into Adam's ocean-blue eyes, waiting for the moment when he'd pull away and laugh at Dan for being so foolish.

But he hadn't.

Adam had asked Dan if he could kiss him, whispered the words against Dan's lips, and Dan could do nothing but nod jerkily. And then Adam's mouth had been on his and Dan had practically felt fireworks, his nerves stood to attention as did the hairs on the back of his neck. Adam's hand had settled on Dan's cheek, and Dan had grasped Adam's elbow weakly, and he felt like he was melting on the inside. Adam had been incredibly careful, gentle, slow, and Dan put as much into the kiss as he could, because even though he'd had no idea what he was doing, he didn't want to ruin what felt like the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Because he was a dork, a nerd, he loved Shakespeare and acting and Mario Kart and Sonic, he binge-watched anime every weekend and had monthly superhero-movie marathons, he'd read Tolkien's works twice over, at least, and he could quote every single Harry Potter book (and movie) without blinking an eye.

And Adam was _golden,_ he was like freaking Captain America personified, he was gorgeous, captain of the football team and the most-loved guy in the whole school, and to make matters worse, he was actually kind and funny and smart, although he seemed to keep that last part hidden at times.

And he'd kissed _Dan,_ he'd walked up to Dan and initiated everything and _he had kissed Dan._

When they pulled away, slightly out of breath, and for Dan, very confused, he'd thought for sure it was a joke. He'd expected to see Adam's friends jumping out from behind trees or buildings pointing and laughing and taking photos. He'd expected to be the laughing stock of the whole school for the rest of the year.

But none of that had happened.

Instead, Adam had smiled, and it had been softer and kind of shy, and he'd confessed that he'd liked Dan for a bit, and he was glad they'd just did that. Dan's jaw had dropped, just a little, and Adam had laughed, deep and hearty, sending shivers down Dan's spine.

And then he'd asked for Dan's number, and kissed him once more before saying goodbye, and Dan had staggered home on shaky legs. Adam had texted him that night, and although their conversation had been short, it was one that had stuck in Dan's mind right up until he went to sleep, and from the second he woke up the next morning.

He'd been infatuated with Adam for months, and his dreams had come true the night before, except they weren't dreams anymore, they were real, and the grin Dan fashioned was wide and esctatic.

He'd had no idea of the whirlwind relationship he and Adam would have, of the highs and the lows and the unforgettable moments. He couldn't have guessed how it would end, either. Not even if he tried.

Because Adam had been everything he wanted in a partner, in a boyfriend. How was he supposed to guess everything would get turned on it's head and his life would get turned upside down and inside out, all because he was uncomfortable with taking their relationship _that one step further?_

He couldn't. Rightfully, no one could. Dan's life basically developed into a soap opera.

Except, unlike with an actual soap, there's no end credits, no switching channels or turning the TV off. He has to live it, day in and day out, with no escape.

Dan has no off button, his drama is constant, and it is suffocating.


	9. Saying And Doing Are Two Different Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil, worried about Dan after his absence at school, comes over to cheer him up. 
> 
> The events that follow, are ones neither really saw coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More flashbacks, please feel free to tell me what you think of Adam, by the way. I'm really curious.

_**'I really missed you at school today.'** _

Dan sighs as he reads Phil's text. He'd spent the day half-paying attention to movies and trying to ignore the avalanche of thoughts crashing down around him. He had, however, successfully managed to keep Phil out of his thoughts.

Until now.

_**'Yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't feeling well.'** _

Dan reads over the message, trying to determine whether he should actually lie to Phil or not. It feels almost blasphemous, because he doubts Phil has ever been anything but honest to him, and yet here he is, fully prepared to lie to the person who's beginning to become a real friend.

_**'Yeah, sorry about that. I slept in late this morning ... Charlotte thought I needed the day off.'** _

He anxiously waits for Phil's response, worried that he'll take it the wrong way and take it as Dan just wanted to skip school for a day.

_**'I understand. Is everything okay?'** _

Dan contemplates how to respond. Does he tell Phil the truth, and risk embarrassing himself? Or does he pretend everything is okay, when it really, really isn't?

_"Maybe you should tell him,"_

_"Telling him things about you - even little by little - can help to strengthen your friendship,"_

Dan decides to take his sister's advice, and plunges into the deep end.

_**'I had a nightmare last night, and it, it really affected me. Worn me down, you know? Well, it was actually more of a, recalled memory, of - my ex-boyfriend.'** _

There. He's said it now. He can't take it back, and he might have just lost one of the greatest friends he's ever had, not to mention Chris and PJ, who would likely side with Phil more than they would side with him.

Because, honestly, who has _nightmares_ about their ex-boyfriend?

_**'Do you want me to come over? We don't have to talk about it, I might be able to take your mind off it.'** _

Dan laughs to himself, assuming Phil isn't aware of the innuendo. It's likely that he didn't realise, but it's made Dan smile regardless, so he's not going to complain.

_**'If you want to. You don't have to, but - it would be nice.'** _

Phil's reply comes barely a second later.

_**'I'll be there in ten.'** _

* * *

Phil waves as soon as Dan opens the door. He isn't looking at Dan with hidden sympathy or feigned happiness, he doesn't even look disappointed. He looks like Phil, bursting with so much sunshine inside of him it's a wonder he hasn't exploded yet.

"Hi." Dan says.

He waits, in case Phil wants to say something else, but he just smiles and nods towards the door. Dan laughs nervously, and steps aside to allow Phil past. There's a second where their arms brush together, and Dan feels the effect shooting up his arm to the back of his neck.

"Again, I'm really sorry about not being at school today. By the time I woke up, it was kind of too late, and I didn't see the point in messaging you because you already would have worked out that I wasn't there, but I still should have-"

Phil reaches for Dan's shoulder and squeezes, shrugging non-comittally. A _'don't worry about it'_ gesture.

"Video games?" Dan suggests, leading Phil into the loungeroom. "Or, we could watch a movie if you want."

He feels nervous, which is ridiculous because there's no valid reason for him to feel that way, not around Phil.

Phil mimes playing with a game controller, and Dan nods.

"Video games it is, then."

Phil smiles, and Dan thinks that maybe he will be able to feel better, maybe Phil coming over is the best thing he could hope for, maybe he'll be able to help Dan forget, even for a moment.

"Get ready for me to wipe the floor with you." He warns, turning the system on, and Phil smirks, almost challenging Dan to beat him.

Which, going by yesterday's events ... is quite likely.

* * *

_The plan had been to study together. That's it. After all, they'd only been more-than-acquaintances for a few weeks, now._

_And yet..._

_"So, if you're under hypnosis, then..."_

_"Dan, would you like to be my boyfriend?"_

_Dan's pen falls from his hand, leaving a scratch of blue ink along the side of the page. He starts at the words he's written until they start to blur together, because he's having a genuinely difficult time trying to work out if Adam is joking or not._

_"Should I take that as a no, or..."_

_Adam laughs nervously, and Dan shakes his head, in an attempt to throw his thoughts back into place._

_"Sorry, I'm sorry, I just - you're being serious, right? Before I risk my own embarrassment ... you're seriously asking me?"_

_Adam smiles, and it's not pitifully, like Dan's expecting. But rather, soft and gentle. Kind, even._

_"Of course I'm being serious." Adam replies. "I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't."_

_Dan blinks slowly. Adam laughs softly, and Dan summons a faint smile._

_"Yeah, yes. Yes. I will be your boyfriend."_

_Adam grins, and it's the same one that makes teachers swoon, the same one that causes the whole school to fall in love with him, the one that swept Dan off his feet in the first place._

_Adam's hand reaches out, hesitantly, and Dan gasps quietly as it cups his cheeks. Adam's fingers are warm and long, and he finds himself leaning into the touch. He knows he should be doing his homework, it is due tomorrow after all and he still has a fair amount left to do, but at the moment there is nothing he could care less about._

_"I'm really glad you said yes." Adam whispers, before leaning in..._

* * *

"No, no, no, no..."

Dan's hands tighten on the controller, the plastic digging into his hand. He hardly notices the way his body leans left, coincidentally bringing him closer to Phil, because he's too busy trying to dodge shells and bananas and other racers.

He's so close, he just needs to inch just a little ... bit ... closer...

"No!"

He flops back on the couch, controller falling out of his hand and onto the ground. He watches despondently as Phil's character rides around the track, jumping up and down in happiness at having won the race.

Dan, personally, can't quite believe that he's actually lost. To Phil, of all people.

_Phil_.

He looks over at his opponent, who's grinning smugly and bouncing in his seat. He looks far too pleased with himself, in Dan's opinion, it was only a game after all.

"It was a fluke." He protests. Phil raises his eyebrows, seeing straight through Dan.

"Besides, it was only one game, I'm still reigning champion."

Phil holds up a finger, picking up the pocket-notebook he had on the bench, and the pen that Dan haddropped onto the table before Phil came over.

_'You're just upset because you lost. Because I beat you.'_

"That is not the problem at all." Dan argues, weakly.

Phil shakes his head, and Dan groans and slides off the couch until he's sitting on the floor, his back against the furniture. He pushes the coffee table back, so there is enough room for his legs. After a moment, Phil slides down to join him, mirroring his position.

He bumps Dan's shoulder, and when Dan sees how worried he appears to be, he feels bad for making a big deal out of nothing.

"I'm fine, honestly. I was just over-reacting."

He smiles, and is pleasantly surprised at how natural and real it feels.

He doesn't realise he's staring at Phil, doesn't realise that Phil is too. They both gravitate towards each other, slowly, barely noticeable, until their shoulders are pressed firmly together. Phil's eyes flick from Dan's lips back up to his eyes, and Dan's breath hitches in his throat. The air around them stills, time stops, and when Phil leans in, Dan's eyes flutter closed. Phil's lips brush against his, once, before pulling back. He doesn't get far, because Dan throws every fear and caution he has to the wind and presses his lips against Phil's, firm and certain.

Phil kisses back, gently yet eagerly, and Dan wonders why it didn't feel like this when he kissed Adam. Kissing Adam was great, and it _felt_ great, but kissing Phil causes fireworks to set off in his mind, his body aware of just how close they are. Phil's hand cups Dan's cheek, holding him, and Dan presses his lips harder against Phil's. His hand reaches for Phil's waist, over his ribs, and Dan can feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt.

Phil pulls back for air, and Dan's mind turns back on, the situation settling in, and all he can think about is how much of a bad idea this is.

Phil's eyes widen as Dan pulls back, overwhelmingly worried. Dan's chest is heaving, he can't get enough air into his lungs, can't gain a grasp on anything, and he's trying to ground himself but the floor isn't even there anymore it's just a pit and he's going to fall...

Dan only realises he's shaking when he sees Phil's hand vibrating where it's gripping his arm. He looks paler than usual, unbelievably frightened, and knowing that he's scared Phil hurts Dan more than the thought that he's messed their friendship up.

Phil signs _'are you okay',_ except because it's Dan he shortens it, so it comes out more like _'r u ok?'._ Dan takes a few deep breaths, before nodding shortly.

"I'm sorry." He says, because it's all his fault, it's always his fault, and if Phil hates him he doesn't know what he'll do. And he can't not apologise, not this time, and most certainly not around Phil, so it seems.

Phil shakes his head and smiles kindly. Dan figures that if he's not running away, he musn't hate him. And maybe he hasn't lost a good friend, and he should probably be thankful for that, but it doesn't mean that things are going to be okay between them. At the very least, there will be something glaringly different between them now.

"Wanna watch a movie?" He asks, and something that almost resembles hurt flashes across Phil's eyes, before it's gone and he's nodding. His smile is forced, tight, but Dan pretends it's normal because that's easier to stomach.

"Have a look." He says, gesturing towards the collection of DVDs. He leaves Phil in the loungeroom and rushes to the bathroom, because he needs to take a moment, away from Phil and everything that just happened.

He grips the sides of the basin tight enough to turn his knuckles white, and forces himself to take deep breathes. He feels sick, and not because he kissed Phil - that had made him feel normal, made him feel really good - but because as soon as he pulled away, his mind flew straight to thoughts of Adam.

And the last thing Dan wants to do whilst kissing Phil, is thinking about his past relationship.

He knows that he should probably talk to Phil about it, explain why he freaked so much, tell him that he's only worried because he genuinely likes Phil a lot.

But at the same time, _he likes Phil a lot_ , and he'd rather pretend nothing has happened, than lose Phil as a friend.

He wouldn't be able to handle that.

* * *

After the movie - which was spent in tense silence, only broken by Dan's awkward attempts at trying to make conversation and pretend everything is normal - Phil texts his mum to come pick him up, and Dan forces himself to smile, to act as though he's not shaking on the inside.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow, yeah?" He asks, dreading the answer in case he really has lost Phil as a friend.

Phil smiles, and although it's tense and doesn't really meet his eyes like normal, it's something. He nods, and Dan curls and uncurls his fingers.

"Can I hug you?" He asks, because he needs some sign that Phil doesn't hate him.

Phil nods again, a lot more certain this time, and Dan hesitantly steps forward. His hands are shaking as they reach around Phil's waist, but Phil's hold is firm and warm, his chest hard against Dan's, and Dan uses it to remind himself that things could have gone a lot worse than they did.

He knows that he needs to take a minute to get his thoughts and feelings in order, but he's also well aware that he won't be able to do that whilst Phil is in front of him. So he just squeezes tighter, as though if he doesn't let go everything will be okay.

They stay like that, Phil's hand rubbing comforting shapes against Dan's back, until Phil's mum knocks on the door, and the truth of the moment is returned to both of them.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Dan says, and it comes out far too hopeful. Phil waves as he leaves, walking backward until he almost runs into the door. His smile looks a little more real this time, and Dan lets out a sigh of relief.

Because, even if nothing ends up happening between him and Phil, it looks like they're still going to be friends, good friends even, and there's nothing Dan wants more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...  
>  Not quite the kiss you were looking for?
> 
> It's okay, it won't be the last one. (probably)
> 
> [My Tumblr!](http://www.tumblr.com/killjoyrow)


	10. It's Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan struggles with coming to terms with what he and Phil did.

"Are you going to be okay, today?"

Dan nods as he slings his backpack onto his shoulder. He hasn't told Charlotte about what happened with him and Phil the previous afternoon. He was in bed by the time she came home, pretending to be asleep to avoid her questions, and this morning she's too pre-occupied to take his slight wariness as anything more than nerves about going back to school.

"Phil messaged me yesterday, to make sure I was okay, and I explained why I wasn't at school."

"And your explanation..." Charlotte asks. "Is it the truth with bits thrown out, or..."

"I told him, vaguely, about Adam. That I had a bad night because of memories of an ex-boyfriend. That's it." Dan explains, trying not to smile at Charlotte's delighted expression.

"And he didn't care?" She asks, as though she knows the answer, and Dan wishes that, for once, she wasn't always right.

"No." He answers, and Charlotte grins.

"I love it when I'm right, don't you?" She says, picking up her own bag.

Dan shakes his head as he follows her out the door, checking to make sure it's locked.

"Nope. There's nothing I hate more."

* * *

Phil's the first person he sees when he walks into the school. He's standing at his locker, looking at his phone, and Dan's grateful that he's not looking at him, because it allows him a few seconds to compose himself.

"Hi." He says, waving to Phil when he reaches the locker.

Phil waves back, his eyes and smile bright, and Dan wonders how he can possibly be looking so cheerful after what Dan had done to him. He's glad, of course - knowing Phil felt bad would only make him feel worse, and the tsunami thrashing around his stomach is already causing him enough unwanted problems.

"We're okay, yeah?" He asks. There's a strange look in Phil's eyes, one he can't quite put his finger on, but it's gone before Dan can figure out what it is.

Phil nods, and Dan's about to ask him if he's sure, really sure, because he doesn't really seem like it, when the chance slips through his fingers. PJ and Chris walk up, their hands laced together, and Phil turns to face them.

Dan gets the message, the conversation is over, and he swallows his pride and turns to the pair as well.

"Hey Dan, we missed you yesterday." Chris greets, and Dan can feel his eyes studying him. He knows Chris is only trying to work out what's wrong, and he'd probably do the same thing himself if the tables were turned.

But they're not, he's the one being scrutinised, and it's uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I had a bad night's sleep, that's all. Wasn't feeling too well."

"But you're feeling alright now?" PJ asks, and it reminds Dan that none of them are trying to interrogate him, they're genuinely concerned about him and his wellbeing, and he should have remembered that earlier.

"Yeah, I am. I had a better sleep last night. Dreamless, but I suppose sometimes that's a good thing."

His eyes catch Phil's, and there's a question in there, but now isn't the time or place for answers and so he turns back to Chris and PJ.

"So, what did I miss yesterday? Any juicy gossip I should know about?"

He can feel Phil's eyes on him every few seconds, as Chris regales him with tales of their painful English teacher, and that one couple in their grade who keep getting back together despite how toxic their relationship is and how over it all everyone else is. PJ cuts in to add his own input, or to scold Chris on occasion, and Dan feels himself being drawn into the conversation, drawn into the easy dynamic of their friendship.

It's almost as though nothing had happened the previous day, and it's only when the bell goes for class, that the truth comes back to Dan, and he can't meet Phil's eyes because he's certain he'll only find hurt or disappointment.

He knows that he needs to figure his own things out, his own feelings, before he can try and talk to Phil about it.

He just doesn't know how long it will take, until things return back to normal.

* * *

There are some days where Phil wonders what his voice would actually sound like, if he had the ability to speak.

It's not something he stresses over, because he's never been able to speak, and whilst it's something he sometimes wishes for, he's accepted that his vocal cords won't ever work, and that's fine.

But he's a curious person, and there are times where his mind begins to imagine what he could possibly sound like. Would he have a light voice, high-tilted, slightly cracked? Or a really deep, baritone voice, like an opera singer. Or, perhaps somewhere in the middle, low but not entirely deep, high when he gets excited, almost like a squeal.

Would he sound manly, or just human? Would he have a nice singing voice, smooth and velvety, or would his voice be the kind that's reserved for the acoustic walls of a bathroom?

He'll never know, of course, but sometimes it's fun to imagine.

* * *

"Are you going to tell me what's up with you and Phil, or am I going to have to corner him with some intense hand movements?"

Dan's hand tightens on his pen for a moment, loosening only after a few deep breaths.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Chris scoffs. His eyes are full of determination, but his smile is encouraging, and Dan knows that if he truly considers Chris a friend, like he keeps reminding himself, then he should feel comfortable enough opening up about it. And he trusts Chris, enough to ask him for advice about his feelings - not to mention, unlike Charlotte, Chris isn't yet aware of Dan's emotional baggage.

In fact, talking to Chris about his worries is probably his best option, considering Chris is Phil's best friend, and has known him longer than Dan has. If anyone can tell him what he should do, it's Chris.

"He came over yesterday," Dan says. He can feel Chris' eyes on him, knows he's gained Chris' attention, or at the very least most of it, and that's only slightly terrifying.

"And we were just playing video games, and Phil won and, I had faked being upset because, well no offence to him but it's _Phil_ , and I play Mario Kart more than I do anything else. Anyway, there was this, I don't know, moment, and we were both just looking at each other, and he leaned in - and then we were just, kissing. And it was great, but - I got scared, and I freaked out, and I'm really scared that I've messed things up between us."

"But you guys appeared fine today, nothing was really out of the ordinary. I could only tell because _I know Phil_ , and I can tell when he's worried about something. Not to mention, you both kept sort of, sneaking glances at each other. Even PJ thinks something is going on. He has this strange ability of sensing other people's feelings, though. It's almost like a superpower, honestly."

Dan chokes out a laugh, amused at the idea of PJ with glowing eyes and a swishy cape.

"That's what's worrying me. Phil's acting like nothing has happened, and even though that's what I was wishing for last night, now that it's happening ... I just wish I had my own feelings sorted out so that I could talk to him about it. Well, you know, communicate..."

Chris smiles, and Dan's thankful it didn't actually come out as awkward as it sounded to him.

"I know this sounds cliche, and far easier said than done, but I honestly think the best thing for you to do would be talk to him. He reads hands, not minds, and you can't expect him to pretend nothing is going on, because that's not fair. To either of you."

Dan sighs. Chris is right, and he knows it, but he also hates admitting that _he's_ wrong.

"I'm just scared." He admits.

"I know," Chris replies. "And you have every right to be. But Phil's a really great guy, and the last thing he'd ever do, intentionally or otherwise, is hurt you."

Dan swallows past the lump in his throat. He knows that Chris doesn't mean it the way Dan takes it, Chris doesn't even know about Adam, but that's the meaning Dan places on it anyway.

"You're right. I mean, of course you are, but-"

"But that doesn't make it any easier." Chris cuts in, and Dan nods.

"Pretty much."

Chris shrugs, smiling sympathetically. "All I'm saying, is just talk to him. Odds are, he's probably freaking out just as much as you are."

Dan hopes Chris isn't right. That would only make him feel worse.

* * *

Phil's not freaking out.

He's not. _Honestly._

But he is a little concerned. Not for him, per se - Dan _had_ kissed him back, providing he didn't imagine that part - and it's not as though he expected Dan to deliberately hurt him. No, Phil's worried for _Dan._

He'd been so frazzled the night before, and although Phil had let it go, it still bothers him a little, because he doesn't understand why. Logically, it's probably not because he's a bad kisser, Dan seemed pretty interested for the most part, but something had clicked and Dan had sprung back.

And now he's acting as though nothing had happened, even though it's perfectly obvious that something did, and that whatever it was is bothering him. Far more then Phil would like.

But of course he can't exactly force Dan to tell him what is wrong - and even if he could, he wouldn't. It's up to Dan, to tell him what's going on, and only when he's ready to.

Whenever that may be.

* * *

"Are you okay, Phil?"

Concern is flooding PJ's voice, and Phil doesn't even have to look up from his notes to see that Chris is just as worried.

He nods, holding a thumb up in reassurance, because he's not the one they should be worried about.

"It's just, you and Dan have been acting a bit funny today, and-"

Phil waves his hand dismissedly, effectively cutting Chris off.

_'I'm fine.'_ He signs _. 'You should be worried about Dan.'_

"And we are worried about him." Chris assures him. There's something funny in his expression, almost as though he knows more than he is letting on, and Phil wonders what it could possibly be.

"But we also want to make sure that you're alright."

Chris bites the inside of his cheek, he looks conflicted, and it's such a strange expression to see on his best friend. Phil's not sure he really likes it.

"Dan told me a little bit about what happened, but we didn't hear about your side of things."

Phil shrugs _. 'It was a kiss.'_ He signs. _'I like him-'_

He stills, searching for the right words. Sometimes signing isn't the best means of communication.

"But you don't want to see him hurt. And you care more about his feelings then yours." Chris fills in, for both Phil's and PJ's benefit, a fact they're both grateful for.

Phil nods.

Chris sighs, and PJ smiles sympathetically. Phil wonders if it was this rocky for them, at the beginning of their relationship. He knows it couldn't have been easy, most good things never are, but the way things are with him and Dan - it's not just rocky, there's a tenseness to the atmosphere, and it's kind of awkward and he wants it to return to normal, added perks or not.

"You should talk to him." PJ suggests, ever the voice of reason.

Phil knocks twice on the table, as a yes, which can at times also mean 'I know'. However, just because he's accepted that it's a good idea, it doesn't guarantee any success in the execution of such a plan.

He'll just have to cross all of his fingers and toes and hope that luck goes his way this time.

* * *

_"Isn't this kind of ... public?"_

_Adam laughs, and it's soft and kind and a sound that Dan doesn't think he'll ever get sick of hearing. Ever._

_"Isn't that the point of a date?"_

_Dan shrugs, willing his body temperature to stay at a normal level. His eyes flick to the people walking past them, expecting a glare or invasive eyes at any moment. Perhaps lunch and a movie wasn't the best idea ... they still have like, twenty minutes until they need to be at the cinema. Maybe if he asked Adam to change their plans..._

_"I just didn't think we were doing this. I mean, it's not a problem for me, nobody knows who I am, but you - you're basically the most popular guy at school,"_

_Adam laughs again, and a grin a mile wide spreads on Dan's face._

_"Not to mention literally the hottest one."_

_Adam bumps his shoulder, smiling bashfully, and Dan doesn't think he's ever seen this side of his boyfriend before._

_Boyfriend. Yep, he's still not used to the sound of that._

_"I'm not." Adam says, and Dan resists the urge to slap some sense into him._

_"Um, I'm sorry, but I think the whole school - if not the universe - is going to have to disagree with you on that one."_

_Adam slides an arm around Dan's waist, pulling him closer. Dan makes a noise -most certainly not a squeak - and leans in, his hand wrapping around Adam's waist._

_"So, you think I'm hot, then?"_

_Dan rolls his eyes. "Well, obviously. A blind person could tell you're attractive."_

_Adam nods acknowledgingly. "But I don't care about what 'a blind person' thinks. Or about what the school thinks. I only care about what_ you _think."_

_Dan slows down, prompting Adam to ease his pace too._

_"I think," Dan says, turning his head so that he is facing Adam. "That you should place those pretty lips against mine."_

_It's hopeful, far too hopeful, because although Adam's never really said he's straight to anyone, and it's quite obvious he isn't, he also doesn't actively shout his sexuality from the rooftops. Which, okay, neither does Dan, but there's still a thread of worry, that a kiss would be a step to far. And besides all of that, it came out really dumb and not cool like he'd hoped..._

_"Only if your pretty lips are going to kiss back." Adam says, and Dan has a moment where he allows the truth to sink in, before leaning in to kiss Adam, in case he suddenly changes his mind._

_He doesn't, instead kissing back fervently._

_It's almost comical, this situation Dan finds himself in, and certainly one he wouldn't believe if he wasn't living it._

_He can't help but feel as though, one day he is just going to wake up, and find that it was all a dream._

* * *

Dan makes it through the school day, somehow, in one piece. However, as soon as he gets home, everything seems to come crashing down around him, and all he can see clearly, is the best option for him to take. Which is not, necessarily, one that he wants to, but rather one he knows he has to.

He's running out of options.

_'Hey, Phil. We need to talk.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EVERYTHING GETS FIXED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER I PROMISE


	11. Listen To Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension between them is getting to be too much, and in a rush of words Dan finally confesses his feelings to Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive thanks to [roseee1313](http://archiveofourown.org/users/roseee1313/pseuds/roseee1313) for being my beta for this chapter. This would probably be more of a mess without your help.

Dan regrets every decision he has ever made in his entire life, when he hears the sound of his doorbell ringing.

Of course, he can't exactly text Phil now and tell him not to worry about it, he's already here. And it would be an entirely dick-move, and probably hurtful, which he doesn't want. And he knows that telling Phil is the best idea, it's what he should do, because Phil deserves to know and it's just disrespectful not to tell him and it's not as though the kiss had been horrible or anything...

The doorbell rings again, snapping Dan out of his thoughts.

Phil, right, yes, get the door, let him in, that's the whole point of this.

Thankfully his hands aren't actually shaking, all though they certainly feel like it, and he manages to open the door without any mishaps. Phil waves, and his smile is bright and his eyes are cheerful, but the crinkles that usually appear at the side aren't there and Dan wishes they were because then he would know that everything is okay.

Except that it isn't, and it's his fault, and that's why he's doing this in the first place. To fix his mistakes, and make everything okay again.

"Hi," Dan says. "I'm really glad you came."

Phil shrugs, as if to say 'of course'. Dan gestures for him to come inside, and as Phil walks past, he breathes in deeply to prepare himself for what is going to happen next. Good or bad, at least he can say that he tried.

"I just - before I say anything else, I really just want to apologise for what happened yesterday."

Phil turns around, a few steps from the entry to the lounge, and Dan kind of wishes he'd keep walking because then he'd have a few more seconds before he'd have to look into Phil's eyes and see his reaction.

Not that sympathy is what he expects to see inside of them, of course, but still.

Phil starts shaking his head, and Dan doesn't need to know sign language to figure out what he's trying to say. He may not be able to speak with his hands, but he can speak Phil.

"No, it is. It's my fault, and my problem, and I'm sorry for hurting you."

Phil's eyes soften, growing wider, and Dan looks away before he can fall into their depths.

"You can sit, if that would make you more comfortable?"

Phil's eyebrows raise slowly, and when it's obvious that Dan still isn't ready to look, he pulls out his phone and fires Dan a quick message.

'What would make you more comfortable?'

"I'm perfectly comfortable," Dan replies automatically, before he's even finished reading the message.

He makes the mistake of looking up, and Phil stares, not breaking contact until Dan can't physically take it anymore.

"Okay, we'll sit," he exclaims. He's doesn't snap, not quite, but it's close, so he lets Phil go first and he focuses on evening out his breathing, settling his temper. After all, Phil hasn't done anything to him, and it's not fair to treat him as though he has.

He sits, and stares at his hands. If the circumstances were different, he'd probably feel confident enough to start the conversation easily - or, if Phil could speak, Dan wouldn't have to begin it at all.

But then again ... even if Phil could speak, that doesn't mean that he should. After all, Dan is the one who invited him over ... it's only right...

"Do you regret it?" he asks, his mouth running off, leaving his brain huffing and puffing as it tries to keep up. He knows that he should have probably eased into things, but the question has been burning in his mind for nearly twenty-four hours and he really just wants an answer.

Phil shakes his head hurriedly, eyes wide and earnest, and Dan knows he's telling the truth and that almost makes it hurt more.

"I don't, either, just for the record ... I know, that it probably seems like it - I mean the way I treated the situation ... I could have handled it better."

Phil shrugs, his lips pursed. Dan starts toying with his fingers, fidgeting, distracting his body so that he can sort his mind out. He wants to articulate his words, not stumble and fall over them. He can do this, he knows that he can, he just needs to try hard enough.

"I've ... I've only ever been in one relationship before..."

Don't choke, spit it out, come on Dan.

"And ... and..."

There's a sudden warmth seeping into Dan's hands, and it's only when he opens his eyes that he realised they'd even fluttered close. Phil's taken his hands, wrapped them in his own, and his touch is firm and gentle, but most importantly, it's there.

Phil's eyes widen earnestly, and Dan wonders how silence can feel so loaded with sound.

"He was great, the perfect first boyfriend, but-"

And his next words should be chosen carefully, because there is a time and a place to reveal certain things, and this isn't really an ideal one.

"My point is, everything was fine for a while, and then… Then something happened, and things weren't as nice anymore, and ... I thought I was getting over him, I thought I was trying hard enough to forget him-"

Phil squeezes his hands encouragingly, and Dan reminds himself that he isn't being judged, he's not standing on a witness bench, he's not on trial.

He's just telling Phil the truth, because keeping it inside is just hurting both of them.

"Look, Phil, I really, really like you. And I did want to kiss you, I just - I wasn't expecting it, it was all really sudden and it caught me off guard, and I freaked out because I like you so much and I didn't know what to do about it."

Phil points to himself, spells L by running his index finger down the opposite middle one, I by touching the same middle finger, K by crooking his index finger and placing the knuckle against his other index finger, and E by touching the tip of the same finger. Then he points at Dan, once he's certain that Dan has understood what he was spelling out.

"You do?" Dan asks incredulously.

Phil nods, nothing but honest, and Dan can't figure out why.

"But ... even after everything I did?"

Phil shrugs, and quickly sends Dan a message. 'You didn't do anything wrong, Dan.'

He squeezes Dan's hand, again, and this time it sends a surge of something inside of him, something he hasn't felt in a while, now. Because, even though he's scared, absolutely terrified, Phil's here, actually here, and he doesn't hate him like Dan had been expecting.

And he likes Dan, somehow, still, and Dan doesn't want to be stupid enough to throw that away.

"I'm scared Phil," he whispers. "I don't want to get hurt again."

Phil's eyes are sympathetic and kind, and Dan doesn't need to read his text to understand what he's trying to say.

'I'm not going to hurt you Dan. I never would.'

"I know, I ... I just have a hard time trusting people. Not that I don't trust you, I do, it's just - I'm going to have doubts some times, and I don't want to, and I try really hard not to, but it happens, and-"

Phil tugs Dan forward, until there's barely any distance between them. His eyes flick to Dan's lips and then back to his eyes, and when Dan doesn't move away, Phil closes the space and presses his lips to Dan's.

There's a moment where neither of them move, their lips still against each other - Phil waiting for Dan to react, and Dan unsure of what he should do.

Kiss him back. His mind instructs. You want to, he wants you to. Nothing bad is going to happen.

And for once, Dan decides to listen to that little voice that's always telling him what to do.

He kisses back, slowly, carefully, and he cherishes every single thing he can. The softness of Phil's lips as they press against his, the grip of his hand in Dan's, the other hand that moves so it is grasping the back of Dan's neck.

Phil pulls back for air, and Dan knows that this is the make-or-break moment, and it's all up to him, how things progress from here.

He breathes in deeply, and kisses Phil again.

* * *

"How was school?"

Dan shrugs non-committedly, hoping that the events of the past few hours aren't clearly written over his face.

"Fine." He answers, because it isn't a lie, necessarily. School was fine. It's what happened after, that holds any interest.

Charlotte's eyes are sharp, and she knows him better than anyone, so it isn't much of a surprise when she doesn't believe him. She blinks at him slowly, allowing him a chance to continue.

"Anything else you want to share?" she asks, more meaning to her voice that what can be heard.

"Hmm ... I don't know."

It's amusing, getting such a rise out of his sister, because when she really wants to know something, she makes it ridiculously easy.

"Oh, wait ... I do have a boyfriend now ... so that happened, I suppose."

He makes it on a count to three before Charlotte is simultaneously squealing and glaring at him. Somehow. He just sits, his legs curled up underneath him, and waits for her to fall off of the couch from bouncing on it so much

"Wait," she says quickly, stilling almost immediately. "Please, please tell me that it's Phil."

Dan purses his lips tightly as he nods, a heat creeping on his neck despite how hard he tries to force it down.

"Yeah," he says. "I, sort of explained things to him - not in explicit detail, but I did, and he told me he would never hurt me, and then we just ... kissed. And I, I wasn't scared this time. I mean, I trusted him before, but this one was different. Better. I don't really have that many doubts anymore. And, I know I felt the same about Adam, and I'm probably going to have my moments of doubts, and I told Phil about that, but-"

"Hang on," Charlotte interrupts, her hand held up in front of her. Her eyes narrow, and Dan wonders what he said wrong.

"You said 'this time'. You've kissed him before?"

Shit.

"Well, technically, yes, but-"

"When?"

Dan looks at a frayed patch of the carpet, instead of at his sister. "The other day. He came over after school, and it's not like either of us had planned it, but it happened ... and I freaked out, because it's Phil and I hadn't prepared for it. I asked him to come over today, to try and explain things, because afterwards it was just so awkward and I hated it."

"And the rest is history, as they say?" Charlotte guesses. Dan nods, getting the feeling she isn't really as happy as she's claiming to be.

"Yeah, I guess. I know it's not going to be easy, but I really think I can do this. And ... he's really sweet, Charlotte, genuinely so. And I know I haven't, you know, told him everything, but ... I'm not as scared as I thought I would be. The idea doesn't make me want to cower in the corner."

"Well, I'm happy for you," Charlotte says, but she's not meeting his eyes and Dan isn't sure how to take it.

"Well, you could probably show it better," He snipes, probably more sarcastically then he should have.

Charlotte sighs, "I'm sorry, I am happy for you, I promise - I just don't want to see you go through the same pain again."

Her eyes are big and wide, almost pleading, as though she is trying to convince Dan. She has no need to convince him, however, because he's never once doubted her.

"I appreciate your concern, but I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Charlotte smiles kindly, reaching out to wrap her hand around his wrist, "I hope you're right."

* * *

"You can read people, are Dan and Phil acting strangely to you?"

PJ shakes his head fondly. "They seem fine to me; you worry too much."

"But, like, don't their voices sound different, or something?" Chris asks.

"You worry too much," PJ repeats. He tugs Chris towards 'their spot', where Dan and Phil are already waiting.

"I have every right to worry," Chris mumbles under his breath. PJ, being blind and not deaf, hears, but he allows Chris the respect of pretending not to.

Sometimes it's much easier, and simpler, to just let certain things slide.

Chris isn't as tactful, or as patient, as PJ though, and his self-restraint is pretty much non-existent in comparison.

"So ... what's going on between you two lovebirds?"

PJ groans beneath his breath, not for the first time wishing he could apologise on behalf of the words Chris neglects to think about before speaking.

Dan doesn't say anything, and Phil doesn't even look at either of them.

"You know, whatever you're hiding, I'm sure it's not as big of a deal as you believe," Chris encourages.

He's not trying to be nosy, or painful, he's just concerned. He's more than aware of Phil's feelings for Dan, and he hasn't yet forgotten the conversation he had with Dan. If there's a chance the two of them have finally sorted their shit out, he wants to know.

"Do you want me to tell them?" Dan whispers to Phil. Chris catches most of the words, spiking his curiosity further.

Phil nods, and then all eyes are on Dan, which should make him uncomfortable, but somehow it doesn't. He's comfortable enough in what he's about to say. Although this ease is something quite unfamiliar to him, it's not something he's about to push away.

"We're, uh, together. Like, in a relationship. Boyfriends," Dan explains, figuratively watching as the calm slips from his grasp.

"Congratulations," PJ says, and Chris nods, because that's the right response, but not something he can conjure up himself.

"We're really happy for you," he says, and even though it sounds false, to his own ears as well, he genuinely means it.

There's a thread of doubt running through him though, one he can't ignore despite how desperately he tries to. A nagging feeling that the two of them are going to end up hurt, perhaps not intentionally, but hurt nonetheless.

And that's the last thing he wants, because even though Phil is a cheerful person, he's never looked this bright before.

And Chris can't remember a single moment where Dan has ever looked as happy as he does now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? THAT THEY'RE HAPPY? 
> 
>  
> 
> tbh it probs won't last. just saying.


	12. Before I Come Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An insight into Dan's past is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- chapter title from waking up by pvris
> 
> btw i made phil's mum's name up. slightly less creepy that way.
> 
> ALSO, TW: Sex-ED stuff. Slightly graphic/descriptive.

"Phil, honey, can you get the door for me?"

Phil glances up at his mum from the his seat at the kitchen table. He'd been doing homework, or at least trying to, except he can't focus his thoughts for long enough to properly concentrate. His mum had entered the kitchen what felt like only a few minutes ago, with the intention of baking, but she's already got flour on her nose and up her apron, and a whole tray of cookies in the oven.

He catches her eye and nods, and she smiles gratefully, returning to the task at hand.

He mentally hums along to a song in his head as he strides over to the door. He knows that his mother isn't expecting anyone - not at this hour on a weekday - and his father isn't due home from work for another two hours, so he can't imagine who could be at his door. He just hopes it isn't some travelling salesman or spokesperson - explaining that he can't speak can be difficult at times, and somewhat hurtful if the people on the other side don't understand what he's trying to express.

"Hi."

Phil blinks at least four times before he lifts his hand to wave. Dan, for his part, just smiles shyly and waves back.

"I know this is kind of random, but Charlotte's working late tonight, and the apartment feels kind of suffocating, and I have a lot of homework to do..."

Phil reaches out and squeezes Dan's shoulder comfortingly. Dan ducks his gaze down bashfully, which Phil finds adorable.

He gestures for Dan to come in, and when Dan does nothing more than shuffle his feet, Phil slides his hand down Dan's arm and laces their fingers together, gently tugging him towards the inside of the house.

His hope is to sneak Dan past the kitchen, and grab his books quickly without his mum noticing. But his mother has keen eyes and even keener ears, and Phil knows he really should have thought things through more if he wanted to escape questioning. He's thankfully quick enough to remove his hand from Dan's, although he also has a sinking feeling that he might not have been entirely quick enough.

"Phil, dear, who's this?"

Phil can feel his cheeks beginning to warm.

_'D-A-N'_ he signs.

His mum's eyebrows raise slightly, her eyes boring into his, before her expression smooths and she directs her attention towards Dan.

"Hello, Dan, it's wonderful to meet you. As you can tell I'm Phil's mum, but you can always call me Grace. Or Mrs Lester, whichever makes you feel the most comfortable."

"H-Hi Mrs Lester." Dan replies. His smile is shaky but genuine, and there's something calming about Mrs Lester's presence.

_'We're going upstairs._ Phil signs to his mother. _'To study.'_ He adds, miming opening and closing a book.

There's a clear message in her eyes, one that says _"we will be talking about this later"_. Phil pretends he doesn't notice.

He darts past Dan to retrieve his books from the table, and when he thinks they're in the clear, he reaches for Dan's hand and tugs him towards the staircase. Dan laughs softly, amusment clear and constant, and Phil would probably be annoyed, but Dan's blush is adorable, and he's comfortable - not to mention he came over with no notice, Phil didn't even have to ask, he just did - and Phil's too busy feeling happy to bother with anything else.

He leads Dan into his room, gesturing towards the bed - because there's more room on there, and not for any other reason. Besides, he leaves the door are they really going to get up to?

"So, what were you studying?"

Phil holds up his textbook, and Dan nods, even as he reads the title.

"How funny, I was going to see if you could help me with English."

Phil grins, and when Dan doesn't move, he motions towards the bed again. Dan's eyes dart to the bed and back.

"Phil, I don't..."

Seeing Dan's discomfort, he quickly steps forward, dumping his stuff on the end of the bed. His hand comes up to Dan's shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. He makes sure Dan's eyes are on his, before he does anything else.

Dan blinks, slowly, but he doesn't break contact. Phil slides his hand to the back of Dan's neck, gripping it firmly.

"I don't..." Dan scrambles for words, for understanding, and even though Phil himself doesn't understand what brought on such a reaction, he respects Dan enough not to question it.

He removes his hand and steps around the bed, to sit down on the left, the side he usually sleeps on. He pats the vacant space next to him, and then pulls his books forward, hoping that his message is clearly put across.

"Just, studying?" Dan says slowly. Phil nods, and pats the bed again.

Dan mutters "okay", and Phil gets the feeling he's saying it more to himself, so he watches patiently, as Dan walks around and gingerly sits on the bed. He pulls his feet up, crossing them beneath his legs. The good thing, Phil notes, is that he's sitting on the bed properly, not on the edge, and when Phil bumps his shoulder, Dan bumps back.

Phil opens his folder, spreading out the papers he'd hurriedly shoved in before. Dan watches silently, his hands wringing together.

Phil raises his hand to his chest, and then pushes it out slowly. _'How are you?'._ He then spells out _'0-K'_ , and by the recognition in Dan's eyes, he understands the question.

"Yeah, I am. It was just a misunderstanding, that's all."

He smiles, and it's faint but real. Phil leans over slightly and kisses Dan's cheekbone, between his ear and the corner of his eye. His skin is soft as Phil's lips brush over it, a low heat warming as he blushes from the contact.

Phil smiles back, and he can feel the tension that had previously been in the room melt away. He hadn't witheld any regrets, about kissing Dan the first time, but he's more than happy it's paid off. That not only does he still have Dan as a friend, that Dan still trusts him, but also that he gets the privilege of kissing Dan more, of having moments like these where it feels like everything has settled into it's rightful place.

* * *

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

Chris really wishes he understood how PJ could appear to be staring into his soul without eyes to properly stare through. He resists the urge to squirm, knowing it would only worry PJ further.

"I'm fine, I promise."

"You've just been a little, off, I guess, lately and I wanted to make sure everything was okay." PJ says, the concern flooding his voice too much for Chris to bear.

"If there was anything wrong, I'd tell you." Chris promises. He reaches for PJ's hand, resting on the duvet of Chris' bed, and squeezes gently.

"I know, it's just ... I know we don't talk about it, but there was a time when you weren't as open about your thoughts and your feelings, and I just - I worry sometimes, that's all. That you're pretending your okay when you really aren't. I don't want to return to that, you know?"

PJ's bottom lip is quivering slightly, which it only ever does when he's incredibly upset or distressed, and something which Chris despises seeing.

"Peej," Chris says softly. PJ turns his head in the direction of Chris' voice, tilting it slightly to the left.

"I'm not going to start doing that again. Not after what I went through, what you went through ... I don't want to ever put you through that again. I'm okay. Really. Actually, after seeing Phil and Dan so happy, I've felt better."

"It's good that they've sorted things out, and especially told each other." PJ agrees. "I was beginning to wonder if we'd have to start pushing them together or something."

Chris laughs. "I don't know if it would have really worked, but it certainly would have been interesting."

PJ lifts their joined hands and kisses the back of Chris'. "I'm really happy you're doing good."

"Me too."

"It's just," PJ mumbles. "I really hate it when you're sad, and after all that you've had to deal with..."

"I know." Chris interrupts gently. "I know, and it's not fun for me either, obviously. Especially as I hate it when _my_ being upset makes _you_ upset as a result."

"Then let's not dwell on the negatives," PJ says. "We're both happy, we should just focus on that, instead of ruining the mood."

"The mood, hey?" Chris asks, wiggling his eyebrows even though PJ can't see.

"You're doing the eyebrow thing, aren't you?" PJ asks, his voice carrying with it the hints of a laugh.

"No." Chris denies the action, but PJ shakes his head, and it's quite obvious he isn't fooled.

"Come here, you loser." He says, tugging on Chris' hand. A few seconds later, Chris is stretched out on top of PJ, their legs entwined.

"That's better." PJ mumbles, and Chris leans down to kiss him slowly.

"Much."

* * *

Dan understands sex.

Well, kind of. Theoretically speaking.

He'd learnt about it in health, he knows that abstinence is the key to the prevention of pregnancy and STI's, and that heterosexual intercourse - or 'penetration' as his teacher had called it - must be undertaken with a condom.

He hadn't been taught much about anything else, not in school. He'd discovered everything else on the internet, during hour-long searches during the middle of the night because his mind was running too fast with thoughts he didn't understand for him to sleep. That's how he'd figured out his sexuality, after all. And it _was_ very helpful.

But that doesn't mean that he has to like it. And he doesn't. The problem is that he was never told it's okay to not enjoy or want sex, never told that he was still normal if the idea of it sent uncomfortable shivers down his spine.

And it was only _after_ his near-encounter with Adam, after he'd almost done something he'd quickly discovered he had no interest in, that he learnt not everyone liked or wanted sex.

And that it's okay.

And he's gotten to a point, now, finally, where he knows it's okay for him to not want sex. Unfortunately, even at such a point, he finds it difficult to say it aloud. And the thought of trying to tell Phil, who he's just kissed, who he's just gotten as a boyfriend, who he really, really doesn't want to mess things up with, not after the trouble they both went through in getting up to this point...

It's almost as terrifying as trying to break up with Adam had been.

* * *

_There's something exhilirating about walking around the school, hand in hand with his_ boyfriend _, the most popular guy in school. It had felt weird at first, admittedly, after having spent so long living in the shadows, being suddenly thrown into the limelight was a strange feeling that took a little to get used to._

_But Adam has been kind, and patient, understanding that this is something Dan isn't used to and it's bound to take a bit for him to get comfortable._

_It's the staring, in all honesty, that affects him the most._

_From the girls who hate him for being able to kiss Adam, for dating him and taking away his single status. Because apparently, Adam being 'officially taken' means they have no chance with him, nevermind the fact that he isn't interested in any of them._

_Having a boyfriend hasn't removed the cynicism from Dan's attitude, however._

_But the reaction from Adam's friends - Dan has never really had many friends before, and certainly never a best friend, and so the warm welcome he recieved from the more jock-like clique of the school was startling to say the least. They never once sneer or judge, never mock him for thinking he is good enough for Adam - no, Dan's own mind has that part taken care of. They treat him as one of their own, a friend, part of the group, and whilst Dan has never aspired to be popular, the feeling isn's horrible._

_In fact, it's kind of nice, to be able to call Adam his boyfriend, to walk laps around the school hand-in-hand, safe in the knowledge that no one would dare say anything rude to him, on account of who he is in a relationship with._

_Being Adam's boyfriend certainly has it's perks, the biggest one being that he's yet to find a downfall._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this today because I shall be in Melbourne for the next four days, so you lucky ducks get a chapter early! :D


	13. I'm Still Haunted By My Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life isn't easy. It's even worse when you have ADHD. Or when you're scared to be with someone because of past experiences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Still haunted by the ghosts of all the boys I let in before. ___\- Dark Wood, Dark Water, Courage My Love.
> 
>  
> 
> TW: Offensive/harmful language, derogatory terms. This chapter is a little jumpy, which I apologise for.

Over the years, Chris has discovered that whilst living with ADHD isn't easy, and it never will be, it is manageable.

He still doesn't like abrupt changes, and it takes him a little while to become accustomed to them, but he's better at coping, at not lashing out in frustration. He stil struggles with his concentration, but his medication helps keep his brain calm so that he can focus better, and most of the time, with his mum and his friends, and most of his teachers, any instructions he recieves are simple and clear, making it easier for him to understand.

Fidgeting is still a habit he's yet to kick, but it also gives him somthing to do with his hands, a way to release energy in an appropriate manner, so it's not all bad. And even though his fuse is shorter than others, so to speak, he has ways and means of dealing with it.

And PJ helps a lot.

PJ's like his rock, the calm in the midst of a raging thunderstorm. He's the provider of peace and the voice of reason when Chris finds himself blinded by frustration. He aids Chris is any way he can, including but not limited to encouraging him to take his medication if he's forgotten.

The problem is, PJ isn't always there. And Chris isn't too good at dealing with things by himself. And sometimes he isn't that fond of his mind and his body being controlled by a man-made substance.

 

* * *

 

"Do you ... do you, uh, want to come over on Friday? After school?"

Dan knows it's ridiculous, how scared he sounds, especially considering it's only _Phil._ But the idea he's suggesting has more weight to it than he is letting on - he hopes to explain everything to Phil, about Adam and the incident and his parents, _everything_ \- and even though he knows it's the right thing to do, he's scared about how Phil might react.

Charlotte had been nothing but encouraging and supporting when he'd suggested the idea to her the night before, telling him that she thinks it's a great idea, and even offering to be there for moral support if he needs it.

And it's Phil.

_Phil._

Phil, who is nothing like Adam.

Except, Dan had thought that Adam was a privilege, a gift, and had been so blinded by the disbelief that he was even interested, to notice the signs before it had become too late and things had escalated beyond control.

He's far too caught up in his own misery, to catch sight of Phil's answer. He's brought back to the present when Phil tangles their fingers together, squeezing gently.

"Sorry," Dan says, shaking his head. They're at their lockers, waiting for Chris and PJ to arrive, and Dan uses the support of his locker to lean against.

Phil doesn't ask what swept his attention away, which Dan is grateful for, and even though he wants to provide an explanation, he can't, so he just pushes it all away. For now, at the least.

"I missed your answer." Dan says, the best excuse he can come up with on such ridiculously short notice.

He's pretty sure that Phil doesn't believe him.

Phil texts him quickly, fingers tapping away with an envious speed, and Dan pulls his phone out, more out of habit, by this point.

_**'I'd love to come over. x'**_ The text reads, and Dan wonders if the 'x' is intentional or not.

"Awesome. Char's already said yes, she's working late so we won't be interrupted-"

He feels the fierce heat as it creeps up his neck.

"I didn't mean it that way - it totally came out wrong, oh my god,"

Phil squeezes his hand gently, eyes shining full of warmth and compassion. _'It's okay',_ they seem to say, or at least that's how Dan reads them.

"That was so embarrassing, I'm so sorry." He says anyway, hoping to clear the air regardless.

The bell rings, echoing around the spacious halls, and Dan doesn't miss the worry in Phil's eyes as he looks around for their friends.

"Maybe they're just running a little late." Dan reasons, hoping to chase away the concern, or at the very least ease it.

Phil nods, although it's hesitant and unsure. Dan tugs him closer, not that the space between them is very great, and brushes his lips against Phil's. Phil presses back, and whilst the kiss is short it still sends sparks racing through Dan's bones.

He wonders if he'll ever grow tired of kissing Phil. Probably not, it seems highly unlikely.

"I have to head to class." Dan says. Phil nods, but he doesn't let go of Dan's hand, and Dan can't personally find the willpower to pull away either.

Phil leans forward and kisses him again, and this time it's harder for Dan not to protest.

"I'm serious," He says, pulling away. He concentrates on the bustling sound of students hurrying past in the hall, and not the buzz on his mouth at the touch of Phil's lips.

Phil pouts, but this time Dan kisses his cheek instead.

"I'll see you in second period, anyway." He reminds Phil. He takes steps backwards towards his own locker, slowly, and watches as Phil starts smirking amusedly.

He waves, for the joy of seeing Phil smile, and the reaction he recieves is the best reward he could have wished for. It's things like this, seeing Phil smile, knowing he was the cause of it, that makes everything else disappear. Every other problem he struggles with on a day-to-day basis just melts away when he catches even a glimpse of the ray of sunshine that is Phil Lester.

Phil Lester. His boyfriend.

His boyfriend Phil.

Maybe one day, he'll get used to it.

 

* * *

 

Chris doesn't get the phone call until he's already at the gates of school.

"Hey, babe, how far away are you?"

_"Hey, Chris. I'm not going to be able to come into school today - I woke up feeling really crappy, I think I'm coming down with a cold, and I don't want to get anyone else sick."_

Chris digs his nails into the soft flesh of his palm. Thankfully, his voice is solid and even when he speaks. "Right, of course. I'll grab any homework you need, let your teachers know. Feel better soon."

_"I'll try."_ PJ's words break of momentarily as he coughs _. "I love you."_

Chris swallows past the lump in his throat. "Love you too."

He shoves his phone into his pocket, a little forcefully. His teeth bite down on his bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, to settle the rush of anxiety and frustration threatening to drown him. He's survived school without PJ before, he survived it before they'd even met.

He just doesn't _like it,_ because it means that he has to do everything himself, has to do his work whilst trying to stay calm and not frustrated, and he has to deal with annoying teachers who don't listen, and on top of that he has to keep his own emotions in check. He has to mediate the fight between his brain and his emotions by himself.

There's a nagging thought in the back of his mind, an obnoxious voice that screams at him, that he is being far too dependant on PJ. That he can't afford to be, just in case something happens, and PJ leaves.

Because everyone leaves.

Chris stands at the gates for a few more minutes, until he hears the bell ringing, and he realises that if he doesn't move now he won't get to class on time, and if he doesn't get to class on time he'll have to explain himself, and that will only make him more fustrated.

Although ... no one's actually seen him yet. And it's not like PJ is here, and his mum's working all day so she won't even notice if he comes home...

He shouldn't. He knows he shouldn't, he knows it's a bad idea.

But at the same time, he also _doesn't want to be here_ , and he was already feeling agitated when he woke up, could tell it was going to be a bad day, and now that he knows PJ isn't going to be here it's just made him feel ten times worse, and-

He's going to do it. He's going to just turn around and go home. It's only one day, it's not a big deal, and besides, he's not feeling that well anyway, so going home is probably his best option.

Chris spares one least glance at the giant span of buildings, intimidating and looming and filling him with dread, and he it doesn't take him longer than a second before he turns on his heel and heads off home.

He feels his phone vibrating in his pocket, but pretends he doesn't.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, did you get a text from PJ?"

Phil looks up, the space in between his eyebrows creasing. He shakes his head, and Dan sighs.

"I just got a message," Dan explains. He ignores the slightly judgemental look in Phil's eyes - he knows they're in class, but his phone had vibrated, and it could have been anyone, could have been his sister for all he knew.

"He said he was sorry he couldn't come today, he's not feeling well ... and then he asked if Chris was okay, or if we thought he was acting normally."

_'But Chris isn't here.'_ Phil scribbles down on his spare sheet of paper.

"I know." Dan answers. "That's why I asked ... I know you've known them longer than me, but it's a little weird, isn't it?"

Phil nods slowly, and Dan can see the concern seeping in.

"It's probably nothing." He says. "Chris might have slept in or something."

He knows it's a weak attempt at an excuse, but he can't come up with anything else, and he really doesn't want Phil to be stressing himself out.

"I'll call him at snack." Dan says. "Find out if he's okay, if he's messaged PJ. I'm sure everything is okay."

Phil nods again, even slower this time, and Dan wishes he could block the sadness before it seeps into his eyes but he knows that he doesn't really have that option at the moment. Instead, he places his hand over Phil's, his fingers falling gracefully between Phil's own.

There's gratitude in Phil's eyes, and he doesn't need to say a word for Dan to hear what he means.

_'Thank you.'_

 

* * *

 

Dan didn't notice the signs.

Everything felt normal. They'd go on dates, they'd makeout on picnic blankets in Adam's backyard, they'd hold hands in the darkness of the cinema, they'd study together and reward each other with gentle kisses and Dan had never felt better.

Which was probably why at first, he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

Because if Adam had started kissing along his jaw or anywhere near his neck, Dan would squirm and claim that it was just because those areas were sensitive, and Adam would let it go and they'd return to making out and everything would be okay again.

And Adam had always been so nice and kind and careful, so Dan had never expected him to do anything extreme.

At least, for the first few months, he hadn't.

 

* * *

 

_His parent's shouting rings in his ears, pounding in his mind like the echo of a headache. He'd slammed his door, more forcefully than he'd intended, and then he'd collapsed onto his bed just as the tears started to fall. They were still falling now, what feels like it must be at least ten minutes later, and he doesn't know how to make them stop._

_**"I will not have a gay son. I will not have a ... a faggot for a child!"** _

_**"And to think ... I just can't believe that you ... I mean being gay is one thing, Daniel, but not - not-"** _

_He's startled out of his thoughts when he tastes metal in his mouth, sharp and biting, the taste of blood. He's bitten down on his bottom lip, hard enough to pierce the skin, and he can feel the pain as it pulses._

_He shudders as he swallows, the metallic taste flooding the inside of his mouth. It's just another horrible thing to add to the list of horrible things that have happened to him in the past few hours._

_He doesn't know what to do, how to deal with what has just happened to him, with the emotions whirring around inside him. His hands are shaking, rattling like he's had four espresso cups in just as many minutes, and there's an ache blossoming behind his eyelids, spreading out to his temples._

_He feels like his world has just shattered down around him, and now his only option is to walk barefoot across shards of pain and heartache and betrayal. The sense of loss, of losing everything he used to know, of losing the way his life used to be, is suffocating._

_And he's left without even a sliver of a clue as to what he's supposed to do next._

 

* * *

 

The bottle rattles in his hand, the pills inside bouncing against the inner walls.

He doesn't want to do it. He doesn't want to take them. He wants at least one day where he doesn't have to rely on made-made medication to keep him functional.

He wants to do it by himself, wants to do _something_ by himself.

His phone vibrates, and Chris glares at his medication once more, before pulling his phone out of his pocket, and answering the call.

"Hello?"

_"Why did you do it?"_

Chris resists the urge to sigh, knowing it would be heard. "I wasn't feeling well."

The tone of PJ's voice is almost disappointed, and it strikes Chris like a shot of lightning.

_"You didn't even enter the school. Why didn't you tell me?"_

Chris tries to push away the feeling of guilt that is threatening to drown him. "I didn't want to concern you, you're sick and I knew you'd worry about me, which you don't need-"

_"You could have messaged me. Left a voice-mail. At least tell Dan and Phil, they're worried about you too, you know?"_

PJ's voice is soft and low and far too gentle for what Chris deserves.

_"You do have people who care about you Chris. Try not to forget that."_

"I told you." Chris replies, wishing more than anything to simply change the subject. "I just wasn't feeling well. I'm sure it's nothing, I'm probably just tired. I'm sorry that I didn't get any of your work, though."

_"It's fine, I can pick it up myself, or get Phil to do it. I just want to make sure that you're alright."_

"I will be." Chris answers. "What about you, are you feeling better?"

_"A little. I should be okay by tomorrow, it's just a small cold and Mum's stocking me up until my insides look like a pharmacy bulk-bill package. Listen, I'll call you later - I know that something else is up, but I'll wait for you to tell me whatever it is."_

Chris looks down sheepishly, even though he knows that PJ cannot see him. "I love you." He says, almost by way of an apology.

_"I love you too."_

Chris puts his phone down, almost forcefully, on the bench.

_'But you shouldn't.'_ He thinks. _'I don't deserve it.'_


	14. You're Too Good To Be True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil does a really cute thing. 
> 
> PJ is worried.

"He keeps saying that he just has a cold, but it's been two days now and I'm starting to get really worried about him."

Phil scribbles down his reply, and then hands the pad over to Dan, who's had to step in as interim interpreter.

"Phil says _'He probably is just sick ... besides, it isn't like him to lie to you.'_ I have to agree with him, I mean I don't know you both as well as Phil does, but it's never seemed like the kind of thing Chris would do. Not to you, at least."

"That's what I keep trying to tell myself." PJ admits. He leans his head back against the coarse bark of the tree. "And I trust him, I do. There's just something off, a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, and I just can't seem to push it away."

"You know, if you want, you can come over as well this afternoon - if it would make you feel better. I'm sure that Charlotte wouldn't mind." Dan offers.

PJ considers it, before shaking his head. "Thank you, but I think I'll pass. I might check on Chris tomorrow, though, see how he's doing."

"Well, if you change your mind, the offer still stands." Dan's eyes flick to Phil's. "As long as it's okay with you."

Phil nods, concern bleeding into his features. Dan's almost envious of PJ, for a second, because he doesn't have to feel the deep-seeded pain that seeing Phil worried brings, pain that he imagines would feel worse being the cause of it.

"Thanks," PJ says. "I really appreciate it. You guys ... I couldn't ask for better friends."

Dan bites the inside of his cheek. He knows that PJ means what he says, which is what makes it all the more harder to hear, and to accept. He's still working on accepting the fact that Phil likes him, wants to be with him, and then to add PJ's comment about their friendship on top of that ... it's a lot for him to take in. He's happy, that PJ said what he did, and that Phil likes him, happier than he thinks he's been in months now, since everything happened.

Content, almost, or at the very least close to it.

It's also a big deal though, to him. To have real, proper friends. Who want to be his friend, too. And he knows he should be used to it, should have gotten over it all by now, because it isn't really as big of a deal as he's making it.

In fact, Charlotte would probably tell him he's being a drama queen. Which, he kind of is, but it's also not his fault, he can't help his own thoughts and feelings.

Phil crawls over until he's sitting next to PJ, next to the tree, and slowly wraps an arm around PJ's shoulders in a comforting, one-sided hug. PJ leans into the touch, his head falling until it rests against Phil's.

He doesn't sign anything, doesn't scribble down words or text a sentence. He doesn't say anything, in any way. He just keeps his hold on PJ firm and warm, and with his other hand, he reaches out to Dan. Dan links their fingers together and squeezes, the makings of a small smile errupting when Phil squeezes back.

Things still feel a little strange, what with Chris not being there, and the weight of his suspected secrecy heavy on all of their shoulders.

But it also feels like the start of something good, for all of them.

 

* * *

  


_'Your room'_ , Phil gestures towards the expanse of Dan's room. _'It's ... T-I-D-Y.'_

Dan laughs, once he understands what Phil is signing. He glances around the room himself, taking in the limited clutter of his desk, his monochrome sheets and plain grey blinds, the few books he managed to sneak out of his home artfully placed in a small wooden bookshelf.

He's always though of it as rather bare, lacking the usual knick-knacks and tid-bits he always used to proudly show off. The proof of his nerdiness, his unhealthy obsession with video-games and fictional characters. It's just a room, not even necessarily _his -_ just a vague bedroom that could belong to anyone. There's nothing that personalises it for him, and whilst he sometimes entertains the idea of decorating it, he doesn't have enough determination to properly follow through with the idea.

To him, it's always been rather depressing, too much of a reminder of what he used to have but doesn't anymore, making it hard to gather up the strength to change things to reflect his ... his new life.

But Phil isn't looking at his room like he's disappointed in the lack of anything. He looks suprised, admittedly, but Dan thinks it's more from the fact that his room is actually clean and proper and not messy like teenagers rooms are stereotypically supposed to be.

"I know there's not, you know, a lot of stuff, but, well, when I moved into Char's place I didn't have a lot of stuff, and I just, I haven't really gotten around to adding anything, yet."

He surprises himself with the last word, with _'yet',_ as he hadn't expected to say it, and certainly not as confidently as he did. Maybe ... maybe he _does_ actually want to decorate his room. At the very least, more than he'd originally thought.

Phil strokes his fingers along the spines of the books on Dan's bookshelf, reading each title as he goes.

 _'I like it.'_ Phil signs - his hand open and flat, palm to his chest, in an anti-clockwise direction - grinning in much the same way he always does. Despite the fact that Dan has seen it before, on more than one occassion, it still a sight that thrills him.

 _'It's...'_ Phil frowns, searching for a word that Dan will understand.

He ends up pointing at Dan, hoping he sees it for the symbol it is and not a rude gesture. One of the difficulties of sign language is that it isn't always taken as what it's supposed to mean, and translation can very easily get lost, especially if someone either doesn't know sign language or doesn't know it very well.

Thankfully, Dan gets it.

"It's very, _me_?" He guesses, hoping he read Phil's signing right. Phil nods enthusiastically, and Dan can't help the grin that blooms at not only the sight, but also the fact that he'd actually gotten it right, first go.

"I guess so." Dan shrugs. "I wouldn't have thought there's really enough in here for that to be true."

Phil frowns slightly, before holding a hand up and turning to his bag, which is sitting at the foot of Dan's bed. He reaches in and pulls out his A4 notepad and pen. He nods towards the chair of Dan's desk, a question evident in the gesture.

"Sure," Dan says. "You can sit ... and you don't have to ask, you know, you can - you can just sit."

He fights down the heat on his cheeks, and Phil smiles almost bashfully before heading towards the chair. He positions himself so that he is the only one who can see the notebook, and when Dan takes a step forward, he holds it up, blocking it from Dan's line of sight.

Dan pushes down the dejected sense of hurt as it threatens to rise up and suffocate him. He tries to wipe it from his face, but from the darkness that overtakes Phil's eyes, he's pretty sure that he's failed.

Phil's eyes are pleading, and although Dan really wants an explanation, he trusts Phil enough to give him the benefit of the doubt. There's a part of him that's not sure it's the right decision, offering up trust in the first place is hard for him, but there's another part that thinks he's just being far too overdramatic, and so he allows his warring mind to provide time for Phil to do whatever Dan isn't yet supposed to see.

Phil's writing, or maybe sketching, something onto the paper, and in between chastising himself for even doubting Phil in the first place, Dan wonders what on earth he's actually doing, and why it's so important that he's not allowed to look. It doesn't take very long, barely five minutes, before Phil is finished, but to Dan, it feels a lot longer.

Soon enough, though, Phil looks up, and there's a sparkle to his eyes that Dan can't determine the nature or safety of.

"I can look now?" Dan asks, trying to sound light and teasing. He manages, kind of, but there's still a worry that seeps into his tone, despite how hard he tries to force it out.

Phil nods slowly. He hands Dan the notebook, his mouth pressed together. He lifts his hand next to his face, in a claw and moves it up and down at a diagonal angle.

 _'Sorry._ '

"It's okay." Dan says, as he takes the notebook. He's not hurt, not really, not anymore, at least.

He glances down at the notebook, because it means he doesn't have to look at Phil. Doesn't have to see the apology in his eyes that shouldn't be there in the first place, because he has nothing to apologise for, Dan's just taking things far too seriously. Ruining things, as he always does.

He can hear his own sharp inhale of breath, but he doesn't register it, as most of his concentration is focused on the piece of paper in front of him.

It's a drawing, or more of a sketch, really. Down the bottom is his name, written in Phil's beautifully elegant scripture. _Dan Howell._ Above that, is a drawing ... of the two of them. Holding hands. Phil's smiling, like usual, and Dan can practically feel the genuine happiness radiating off the replication.

But he ... the way Phil's drawn him, he looks almost unrecognisable. He knows it's him, same hair, same crooked grin. But there's more. He - he looks happy. There's faint crinkles near his eyes and even though there's no colour he can practically see the sparkle that would be there if this was real. His grin looks honest and pleased, easy rather than forced - it all looks so simple and natural.

And Phil drew it.

Which, amongst other things, would mean that...

"This - it sounds so stupid to ask, but is this ... is this how you see me?" Dan whispers.

He looks up, sees the flash of hope in Phil's eyes before it's overcome by a mix of delight and concern, a hint of confusion dampening his smile.

Phil nods slowly. Dan doesn't doubt him. He can't figure out why, or more accurately how Phil sees him like he supposedly does, but he believes Phil. Even if he can't really believe it himself

"Phil, this is ... this is amazing. Thank you so much, I - you didn't have to do this."

Phil steps forward, reaching his hand out. Dan takes it, their fingers tangling together. He rubs his thumb along Dan's hand, caressingly. staring into his eyes to express the words that he can't say himself.

Dan thinks he catches the meaning - _'But I wanted to'_ \- unless, of course, he made it up himself and it's not what Phil means at all. He doesn't have long to wonder, because Phil leans forward and kisses his cheek, his lips brushing gently across the soft skin.

He pulls back, and Dan grins, feeling stupidly and hopelessly happy.

"Hang on," He says. He doesn't remove his hand from Phil's as he steps sideways towards the bed, placing the notebook down so that both his hands are free.

He turns back around, and Phil's still there, closer in fact, so close Dan can smell his deodarant. Musky.

"I love it," He tells Phil, his eyes flicking, unable to stay on part of Phil's face. _I want to kiss all of it._ He thinks, distantly. _I want to kiss him._

And so, he does.

He tightens his hold on Phil's hand, and then he leans in and brushes his lips against Phil's, and it's like the first time all over again. His eyelids flutter closed, as Phil's mouth moves against his, slow and patient. There's fireworks going on, in the distant regions of Dan's mind, sparks from where their skin is touching.

He reaches his other hand up to grip Phil's upper arm, above his elbow. They kiss slow and sweet and Dan decides that kissing Phil is going to be his new favourite hobby. Phil pulls back for air, eventually, and Dan is surprised to find himself breathing kind of heavily. He blinks, taking in the brightness of Phil's eyes, the shine on his lips, pulled up into an unabashed grin. Their chests rise and fall in the same rhythm, steady and deep, and Dan can't focus on much else but the desire to kiss Phil again.

Phil cups Dan's cheek slowly, sending a swarm of warmth into Dan's skin. There's something to the air, something new and exciting, that pulls the two of them closer together. He can feel something inside himself, as well, the kind of feeling that sends shivers down his spine, makes his skin tingle and remove all plausible thought from his mind, allowing him to only focus one one thing. One person.

He pushes the feeling down, ignoring the twist of his stomach as his past tries to force it's way into the present. It's too soon to even entertain the thought of such feelings, he's nowhere near ready enough to allow himself to actually feel it.

He turns his attention to _now_ , to Phil. To Phil's hand on his cheek, his piercing blue eyes staring into his, the deep-seeded desire to kiss Phil again, now, more, for hours or days or weeks. Forever.

Now is not the time for unwanted reminders or emotions he isn't ready to deal with. Now is the time to appreciate what he has.

To appreciate Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the schedule for this story is going to be a little out-of-whack for the next month or so as school is becoming quite hectic, and exams are coming up.


	15. Stitch Up My Broken Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which (the author is vv sorry), Dan has a bad dream and Chris has trouble coping with it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry it's been so long - I hope this chapter begins to make up for it.

Dan wakes up from a cruel dream, where a shapeless shadow of mocking mist had chased him, taunting him for not being normal, for liking guys, for not liking sex, the manifestation of his parent's words twisted in a malevolent form that sounds suspiciously like his own ricocheting thoughts.

It's around three in the morning, making it too early for him to message Phil, which is his first thought. He lies in bed for as long as he can, before sleep becomes too distant a hope. He lasts half an hour, after which he gives up and sneaks into the bathroom. His face is drawn, the bags under his eyes more defined than they usually are. He really needs sleep, but after the night he'd had, he's a little afraid of what might greet him when he closes his eyes.

He can't just stay awake, though - he has school in a few hours, and there's at least one test he'd like to get as good a mark as possible in.

So he tiptoes quietly into Charlotte's room, just like he used to when he was younger, before she'd left. Her bed has more space than she needs - she barely takes up half, which in this case, is something Dan is grateful for, because it allows him to fit on the other side.

It's a childish thing, but Dan missed this, missed the escape that hiding with Charlotte brings. He's probably too old to still be doing it, but at the moment, it's something he needs.

And barely ten minutes in, he's fallen into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

Phil can tell that there's something up with Dan, as soon as he sees him. The bags under his eyes are darker, the lines of his forehead deeper. He smiles, but it's weak and half-hearted, and Phil's heart pangs at the sight.

"Hey." Dan greets him with a quick peck. Phil smiles, as brightly as he can, then places his hand to his chest and slowly pushes it out. _'How are you?'_

Dan picks up on it almost immediately - Phil would be bursting with pride, if he weren't so worried. "I'm alright. Just had a bit of a rough night's sleep, that's all."

Phil frowns, not entirely convinced there isn't more he's not being told. Dan leans forward and kisses his forehead, gently.

"Phil, I'm okay."

Phil nods, and shrugs. _'Sorry',_ he signs, by miming a claw in a diagonal direction in front of his mouth. He tries to express that he's not trying to push or anything, he's just worried about Dan, that's all.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Dan assures him, reaching out and squeezing Phil's hand. "Your questions just mean that you care, and that ... that means a lot to me."

It's taken them a few weeks, but Phil really feels like they're getting somewhere - further, in their relationship, and closer, to a point where Dan feels comfortable being open and honest with him. Where, if something really is wrong, he'll find out, he won't - he won't have to try and trick Dan into telling him, because Dan just - will.

Dan tugs on his hand, and smiles encouragingly. "Come on. We don't want to be late for class."

They're early ... Phil gets the feeling that Dan has hidden motices behind getting to class ten minutes before most of their fellow classmates do. Dan's just standing there, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, wide and sharp and devious.

"What?" Dan asks. "I care about our education."

Phil laughs soundlessly, and draws Dan in for a quick kiss on the lips, expressing through his actions just how adorable he finds Dan. Which is very.

"What was that for?" Dan asks. His smile is heartwarming. Phil shrugs.

"Just because?" Dan guesses. Phil nods. He doesn't want to pressure Dan by constantly complimenting him.

Actions have always spoken louder than words, for him.

 

* * *

 

The house is quiet when PJ swings open the door. Chris had given him a key a while ago, though up until now, it had never really had a purpose other than sentimentality and the progress of their relationship.

He's grateful for it now, because Chris hasn't been at school for three days, and he hasn't been replying to any of PJ's calls, which makes confirming that he's okay very hard. There's only so much space he can take up in Chris' voicemail, and it's not like he can exactly text Chris.

He could enlist Phil, or Dan's help, but he doesn't want to drag them into his bubble of worry. Chris is _his_ boyfriend, so it's his duty to make sure that everything is okay. Or, if it's not, to help fix it.

"Chris?" He calls out. There's no response. His walking cane clicks along the hardwood floor - Chris had painted it red and white to mimic a candy cane, when PJ first got it. He doesn't use it as often as he probably should, because at times - such as during school - he has people who can guide him, resulting in less injuries for those around him. He knows his way pretty well around Chris' house, having been there a lot of times, but he's never had to make his way around without Chris leading him, without Chris _there,_ right _next_ to him.

It's a new level of impairment, and not one he is very comfortable with.

"Chris!" He calls out, again, a little louder. He's starting to get more than just a little anxious, his stomach twisting itself into tight, painful knots.

There's no reply, just static silence. PJ grips the cane tightly, and inhales as deep a breath as he can. It doesn't sound like Chris is anywhere close, which means he's probably in his room. Leaving PJ with no choice but to tackle the stairs, a feat fairly difficult with only his cane and hand to guide him.

He continues to call out Chris' name as he ventures up the stairs, his voice a little quieter and kind of shaky, as most of his attention is directed towards the immediate task at hand and not the wider reason for his visit.

He takes a moment, to center himself and order his thoughts into something a little more manageable, whilst he stands on the outside of Chris' bedroom door. He doesn't know what he's going to find once he opens it, and the thought unnerves him a little.

At the same time, Chris has been ignoring him for long enough, and PJ won't stand it for another hour, let alone another day. He has to do this, for Chris, and for himself - he needs to know what's going on.

Leaning on his cane, PJ raises his hand and knocks on the door.

 

* * *

 

Wrapping himself tight within the darkness of his duvet affords Chris the safe, almost stifling space he needs, to cope, to hink better, though the darkness within his own mind makes that difficult. He's tried doing things to distract himself, but nothing ever works, he simply gets increasingly bored with each task in less and less time.

PJ used to make it better, could distract him well enough to keep his attention for a substantial hour, at least, sometimes more.

He hasn't spoken to PJ in three days. He has to keep his phone on during the day in case his mum needs to contact him, but when she's home he's resorted to turning it off, in a vain attempt to starve off his guilt. He hasn't been at school for as long, and there's only so many times he can attempt to tidy up the house before it just gets frustrating and he has to do something else.

Which then only frustrates him more. It's a dwindling, chaotic, cycle of bad decisions and he can't seem to lift himself out of it.

He also hasn't been taking his medication, because he's trying to be more independant, to prove that he doesn't actually need it to survive, he can live without it because he is a capable, functioning human being.

He's just about to drag himself out of bed and do, something, have a shower, get something to eat - just do _something_ \- when he hears his name being called. It's only four, his mum isn't due home for another two hours. Which means...

He hears it again, and knows, unmistakebly, who it is. Chris tries, in vain, to smother himself with his own covers, to melt into invisibility and pretend there is no outisde world.

Of course the universe despises him, because just when he thinks that everything's okay, there is a knock on his door. His bedroom door, to be exact.

"Chris?" It's PJ, he knows it's PJ, but admitting that to himself ust increases his levels of guilt and inclines him to simply sink further away from whatever facing his guilt and mistakes will bring him.

"Chris! I know you're in there, just - just let me in. Please." He sounds ... he sounds sad and wistful and Chris is the reason for that, it's all his fault, it's-

"I'm not mad, Chris, I promise, I'm just worried about you. Please, let me in. Please." He's practically pleading now and it's all because of Chris, he-

Before Chris can even think he's climbing out of bed, walking hastily to the door. He freezes momentarily, and then decides to swallow his pride and get it over and done with. The sight that greets him on the other side of the door sends miniature fracture lines through his heart.

PJ looks ... well. broken. There's no other word for it. Chris aches at the sight, but he also isn't sure if he can touch PJ, if he has permission, after all that he's done.

He doesn't deserve PJ, that much he is certain of.

"What - what are you doing ... here?" Chris asks, weakly.

"I'm concerned about you." PJ states. He doesn't sound angry, his voice is thin and faint but not angry. "You weren't answering any of my calls, you haven't been at school for half a week ... what happened?"

"I don't know, I - I just needed a break. I didn't - I didn't mean to hurt you." Chris doesn't try to excuse what he did, his actions were deliberate but he'd had no intention of hurting PJ in any way. He hadn't even thought about it - which was probably half the problem.

"Why didn't you talk to me, then? I could help you, Chris, that's - that's what I'm here for."

"I'm sorry," Chris chokes against the sob in his throat. "I'm so sorry, Peej, I-"

His words are cut off as PJ pulls him in for a hug. One arm wraps around his torso, the other holding his cane, keeps him upright. His head falls to Chris' shoulder, and the embrace is so soft and warm, and Chris can't stop thinking about how he's not worth any of it.

"Please, don't _ever_ do that to me, again." PJ whispers against Chris' neck. "I love you Chris, you can talk to me, I'm not going to judge you. I just want to help."

"I'm sorry." Chris sobs. The darkness is creeping at the edges of his mind, the tightness in his chest constricting with every breath. He's pretty sure that his hands would be shaking if they weren't squeezing PJ's lithe frame.

"Whatever you're going through, we'll fix it. Together." PJ promises.

Chris doesn't reply, even as doubt wraps around him like a cloak. He doesn't deserve PJ, he doesn't deserve his love or his care or his support. After the way he treated his boyfriend, PJ should be screaming at him, throwing things, something. Breaking up with him even. Not, not trying to help him.

"We've all been so worried," PJ mutters, and - and, oh God, the others - Phil, and Dan, what do they think about him? They probably think he's just the most horrible person in the world, they certainly wouldn't want to be friends with him any longer.

He's ruined everything, all because he can't handle things, all because he can't behave or think or feel like a normal person. Because he's dependent on other people's help and tiny pills that he's basically clinically addicted to.

One day they'll realise. One day all of them, Phil, Dan, PJ too, they'll all realise that he's not good enough, that he's more trouble than he's worth and he'll lose them all.

But for now, Chris pulls PJ closer, impossibly so, and breathes in the scent of his honey and vanilla shampoo, because he's selfish and he's even more broken without it.

 

* * *

 

Phil understands that there are just some problems that are hard to admit aloud. But he can't help but worry that there is something Dan isn't telling him, something important, and it's not like he's going to be unsupportive if Dan does tell him. It's just a little hard to be supportive if he doesn't know what's going. He's tried asking Dan if something is up, but the only reply he gets is that Dan is simply tired, or stressed from homework, or some other vague reason.

And the hardest thing is that Dan has been so helpful and supportive with the issues that he has - Dan's even learning sign language just to communicate with Phil better, he's literally learning to speak Phil's language.

No one else, except for Chris and PJ and his family, of course, have ever bothered to learn sign language for him. He's never really had a proper relationship because no one has given him the time or the chance.

But Dan _has,_ and there's something so heartwarming about that. Phil just wants to do the same.

He - he really _likes_ Dan, a lot. He likes meeting him before school, and hanging out with him, and making him smile, and kissing him - Dan kisses really, really well. All soft and gentle and his touch sends sparks racing across Phil's skin.

He's one of the best things to happen to Phil, and he just wants to repay the favour, in whatever way he can.

That's what boyfriends do, they help and support and care. Sure, Phil doesn't know a lot, but he knows that.

If Dan is willing to learn a whole new language for him. The least Dan can do is listen to whatever issues he might have. If he can just get Dan to tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a huge, unbelievably huge thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter, asking about when it would be updated and such - the 'pressure' helped me kickstart out of my writer's block and spur something out. You guys are incredible, and I am so sorry that I have been away - between life and my own internal issues it's been hard to find inspiration for this chapter but I think my muse has woken up. I can't determine when the next chapter will be, but I can promise that I'll try and post as reguarly as I possibly can.
> 
> If you have any ideas/scenes you'd like to see, feel free to leave them in a comment. Any inspiration is a great help, and this story is as much mine as it is yours.
> 
> For those still reading, thank you for sticking around. You're the best readers a writer could ask for.


End file.
